


A Hobbit's Worth

by Zirakinbar



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dwarves, Hobbits, Kink Meme, M/M, Polyamory, culture clash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zirakinbar/pseuds/Zirakinbar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dwarves had no idea that Bilbo was an omega when they hired him as a burglar. When he goes into heat during the journey, their attitude towards him changes from an amusing nuisance to a valuable commodity. The rest of the journey... does not go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm terrible at titles. I recognise this. I embrace this. If anyone has a better idea, please tell me and I will be overjoyed to retitle this. Also, this is pretty much completely unedited. Hopefully I will return at some point and turn it into something a little more readable but until then, enjoy my mistakes!
> 
> A response to this prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=1807046#t1807046
> 
> I make no apologies.

They were barely three days out of Rivendell, travelling up into mountain paths where the wind was just beginning to bite with bite with cold and the first glimpse of snow was to be seen, when Bilbo felt the first nigglings of suspicions.

He had not expected heat to bother him on this journey; hobbit omegas were hardy folk for all their stature, and their bodies were wise enough to delay the inconvenience of heat whenever there was unnecessary risk of danger. However, it seemed the fortnight spent in the generous hospitality of Lord Elrond and his kin had managed to restart his cycle, much to Bilbo’s irritation.

He kept his silence, hoping the irritable restlessness and grumpy over-eating were merely symptoms of the journey that was going on far too long for his preference. He did not think Thorin would easily tolerate another delay, having chafed noticeably at the Last Homely House - and the dwarf being a somewhat intimidating figure, Bilbo was not particular interested in bringing that displeasure down upon himself. For all that Bilbo was tall and strong for an omega - the same height as many betas in the Shire, to his pride! - he was still rather significantly shorter than all of the dwarf alphas, Thorin in particular, and did not fancy his chances were Thorin to choose to express his annoyance. 

It was when they were settled down to eat that night, however, sheltered from the wind inside a small cave with a fire crackling quietly that he could no longer deny what his body was telling him. Bilbo was furthest away from the entrance, quite pleasantly chatting to Ori as the dwarf knitted peaceably. The majority of the group had settled to the front of the cave, where a fight seemed to be busily developing between Bifur and Nori - Bifur having noticed the disappearance of one of his much prized whittling knives. As Fili brought over a bowl of stew for Bilbo, their hands brushed - and Fili exclaimed in surprise.

“Are you well? You’re boiling!” 

Bilbo blinked slowly, and then quite deliberately brushed his hand against Fili once more. The blond dwarf was entirely correct - the difference in temperature between their skin was entirely noticeable, and there was certainly no denying it any more. “Oh _bother_ ,” he said with some feeling, to the surprise of his companions. “I don’t suppose we could stop here for a couple of days, is there?”

Thorin turned to look at him - he wasn’t the only one eyeing the burglar at his outburst, but he was the only one with such a disdainful glower on his face. “And why,” he said with deep disapproval, “Would we be needing to do that, Master Baggins?”

“Ah, well,” Bilbo hedged uncertainly, a blush creeping up his face. While heat wasn’t an uncommon circumstance, it wasn’t really one that hobbits enjoyed talking about - far too inappropriate for polite conversation. Thorin looked as though he were about to say something rather rude however, and so Bilbo hammered down his Shire sensibilities and blurted it out.

“My heat!”

An utter silence fell over the camp, even Bifur and Nori ceasing their fight to see what had caught the attention of those in the back. Bilbo’s blush slowly began taking over the rest of his body, creeping up to his ears.

“Your _heat_?” Kili asked, a look of puppyish confusion on his face as he swivelled his entire body to face Bilbo. “I thought-”

“It - I - ah, must have lost count of the days somewhat and, well, with the stay at Lord Elrond’s...” Bilbo confessed, shame-faced. “I know it’s rather awkward, but really, if we could just find a quiet spot I can ride it out without much trouble.”

“You’re an omega?” Fili asked, looking just as stupefied as his brother. “Why were you allowed to travel?”

“Excuse me!” Bilbo said with some indignation, his blush thankfully - and finally! - beginning to settled. “What precisely do you mean _allowed_? I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions thank you _very_ much.”

The dwarves all ignored this, as if he had said something entirely ridiculous.

“He cannot be bonded,” Dori said. “No alpha would ever allow their omega to travel without them.”

“Is this a joke?” Bilbo asked plaintively. “Or have you all simply lost your mind?”

“Why did your kin not assign you an alpha to protect you until you bonded?” Bombur asked, looking very confused. “You could have been hurt!” 

Bilbo spluttered.

“It is very improper for an unbonded omega to be in the company of so many unbonded alphas,” Balin said, stroking his beard carefully. “The only way it could be allowed would be if courting was initiated - perhaps some hobbit custom we were unaware of when we had Mister Baggins’ hospitality?”

Bilbo paused, ignoring the latter part of Balin’s speech. “Do you mean to say,” he said slowly, “That you are _all_ unbonded alphas?” His eyes rested sceptically on the company, and Ori bristled slightly. 

“I might not look like much,” he began defiantly, and Bilbo shook his head.

“No, no, that wasn’t what I meant at all Master Ori,” he said quickly. “I simply meant... surely you have your own omegas waiting for you? I wouldn’t have thought you...” he searched for the words awkwardly, but could only come up with a shifty, “ _undesirable_.” Certainly, there were no unbonded alphas much past their tweens in the Shire! Had there been, Bilbo’s own unbonded status would have likely been met with far more than raised eyebrows. 

“I am bonded,” Glóin reported proudly. “And I fought hard for the privilege! Beat out nineteen other dwarves for my position as Edda’s fourth alpha, and it was well-done too, for when we first mated she bore me a son- look, have I shown you the pictures-”

Nori groaned audibly and Glóin, rather huffily, put his drawings back inside his armour from where he’d been pulling them out. 

“But really,” Bilbo said uncertainly. “How can twelve of you be unbonded?”

It was at this point that Gandalf, who had been watching the proceedings with some amusement, finally chose to intervene. “I am afraid, my dear Bilbo,” he said, “that omegas are far rarer in dwarven society than they are in the Shire.” He paused, taking a few contemplative puffs from his pipe. “They are also, perhaps, hmm, how to put it,” he murmured, trailing off, before returning to his speech. “Perhaps a little more sheltered than a hobbit omega might expect to be. They lost very many in Erebor after all, terrible tragedy that it was.” 

“Yes, well,” Bilbo said. “Sheltered is one thing, and rare is another, but returning to the point of allowing-”

“So this is common?” Thorin interrupted from where he had been standing silent, his beard bristling with outrage. “Hobbits would- would _fling_ their omegas out into the wild, unprotected, _easy prey-_ ”

“Here now!” Bilbo objected. “You’re making me sound like some pet animal, and I most certainly-”

“And how many times have you nearly died?” Thorin demanded, rounding on him and crowding in closer. 

“Well,” Bilbo considered, trying to ignore how Thorin’s closeness prickled at his fingertips. “I would suppose only once - the trolls were the closest it came to it, really-”

“The trolls, the wargs - there were _orcs_ hunting us - you could have fallen behind, or-” Thorin flailed inarticulately, looking as though he wanted to shake the hobbit.

“The dragon,” Kili said, looking sick. “Uncle, we surely can’t send Mister Baggins against _Smaug_. He might get hurt!”

“I did sign the contract,” Bilbo snapped defensively. “I am well aware of the risks. Bofur explained them quite adequately.”

Bofur shifted unhappily as all the dwarves levelled particularly venomous glances at him, remembering his words. “I, ah,” he said, awkwardly, removing his hat and clasping it before him, “I apologise for speaking about- about such unpleasant things in your hearing Mister Baggins. I didn’t mean to- to upset you or-” he trailed off, the tips of his ears quite red.

Bilbo gaped. 

“There is nothing for it,” Thorin said grimly. “We will have to return you to this Shire of yours.”

“Ah, quite unnecessary,” Gandalf intervened, looking a little more concerned at Thorin’s paranoia. “Bilbo’s presence will be needed to negotiate with some of his kin who currently reside near Dale. Quite a secretive bunch, will not talk to anyone without a blood-connection. They will, quite naturally, be our burglars for when we come to face Smaug. There was never any intention on anyone’s part of Bilbo being put into danger.”

“What kin?” Bilbo mouthed uncertainly at Gandalf, and the wizard waved his hand in a sharp gesture.

“Ah, yes,” Bilbo said twitchily. “My kin. Tooks, you know. Bunch of wandering adventurers, but they don’t much like Men. Or Dwarves. Or Elves. Or - ah - anyone, really. Hence my presence!” He spread his arms wide in supplication, and only began to relax when Thorin nodded once, slowly.

“It would be near as dangerous to return,” he ceded grudgingly. “As long as there is no foolish talk of Mister Baggins going anywhere near this dragon.”

The dwarves surrounding him began nodding and murmuring their agreement, even as Bilbo stared beseechingly at Gandalf. This adventure business was all very well and good, but no one had mentioned being smothered by overprotective alphas when he began! It seemed dwarves had a rather different attitude to the wellbeing of their omegas compared to the Shire, where live and let live was the overwhelmingly general (and sensible, Bilbo quite firmly believed) opinion.

“Well,” he said, after a few moments. “As interesting as this general situation is, I believe the original point remains which is that I shall be beginning my heat rather soon.” And indeed, he could feel the low pulses of warmth settling syrupy deep into his bones. 

There was another low ripple of mumbling among the dwarves who seemed to have forgotten that salient point. Thorin, in particular, was beginning to look a little wild-eyed as he stared around the cave and found it wholly unsuited to his purposes. “While this is adequate for camp, it’s hardly defensible enough for a _heat_ ,” he said, looking as though he would like nothing more than to discover a miraculously uninhabited fortress that they could immediately take possession of.

“I could go scout around,” Nori volunteered immediately. “I’m sure we can find something a bit better.” The other dwarves began nodding fervently.

“Maybe we should move some rocks,” Dwalin said, narrowing his eyes evaluatingly at the entrance of the cave. “We could begin a barricade perhaps, in case there is nothing better.”

“Food and water,” Bombur said. “Have you eaten enough? You haven’t eaten your stew! I can make some more, it wouldn’t take but a moment-”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “While I felt notifying you would be best, it is still just a heat,” he said in exasperation. “I go through them every three months. And as to defense, I hardly think there is an army waiting to storm our camp site the moment we close our eyes. Certainly your worry is-” And he trailed off, as it became apparent that only Gandalf was listening to him, the others crowding around Thorin as he rattled off orders to secure the site.

Gandalf chuckled beside him. “Perhaps not what you were expecting?”

“You would think they had never been around an omega in heat before,” Bilbo grumbled back, keeping his voice low. “Even Thorin-” he shook his head, not able to understand the change in attitude that had swept over the dwarf king. “To propose turning back! I would have thought he would sooner lose his head to an orc than even _think_ of such a thing.”

“You don’t understand, my dear lad,” Gandalf murmured, his eyes suddenly appearing very old and sad. “Dwarf society is predominantly made up of alphas - there is perhaps one omega born in every eight.”

“Their betas-”

“Are unable to sire or bear children,” Gandalf said. “They are unlike hobbits in such matters. And after Erebor-” He sighed deeply. “Typically omega quarters were kept near the treasury - so dwarves may have all that is precious to them guarded in one spot. And naturally, the treasury was where Smaug headed first. There were few survivors.” He smiled gently, but there was a bleakness to his expression. “I fear you may find yourself valued beyond that which you can understand.”

“I fear that is already happening,” Bilbo hissed back, his head reeling from the information. “And what happens, Gandalf, when we reach Erebor and my mythical Took cousins are nowhere to be seen?”

“We will deal with that when the matter arises,” the wizard said, checking to see that no dwarf was listening to their conversation. “A terrible tragedy that your cousins forgot to mention their relocation to you, but by then we will be far enough away from the Shire that the dwarves may be willing to consider what now seems unthinkable.”

There was a long pause, and Bilbo watched the dwarves hurry about outside in the rapidly darkening night. There was already the beginnings of a small wall at the entrance of the cave, the building supervised by a glowering Thorin. He looked back at Gandalf, whose lips pursed slightly at Bilbo’s expression.

“Hmph!” he sniffed with some dignity. “We shall see who is correct in Erebor, then.”

Bilbo snorted lightly and turned to rummage through his pack for his pipe. “I would most certainly hate to correct such a venerable wizard as yourself, Gandalf,” he said mildly. “I am sure you have considered all possibilities.” He made a sound of triumph as he pulled out a packet of his best Buck Leaf. “Now if you don’t mind...”

He jerked in surprise as Ori appeared by his shoulder. “Are you certain you should be smoking Master Hobbit?” he enquired anxiously, tugging at one of his braids. Bilbo closed his eyes and tried not to sigh. Was this truly how the entire journey would go? No, certainly the dwarves would settle somewhat after his heat had passed and they realised he was the same hobbit that had travelled with them from the beginning.

“It is not my normal weed,” he explained patiently. “This is Buck Leaf; it is grown in the Shire for the sole purpose of easing heat.” He paused, and cocked his head thoughtfully. “Although I understand some betas also smoke it for pleasure. In omegas, however, it shortens the length of their cycle and aids in relaxation - so, if you don’t mind...?”

“Is your heat coming on that quickly?” Ori asked anxiously. “Should we work faster? I could ask Thorin-”

“Tomorrow,” Bilbo said. “I will smoke tonight, I will sleep, and tomorrow when I wake I will be in heat for between twenty four and forty eight hours.” He watched Ori twitch, and sighed. “It is truly nothing to be concerned about,” he soothed. “I have been having heats every three months for some twenty-odd years. I am well-accustomed to dealing with my own needs.”

“Of course, of course,” Ori said, his eyes wide. “I would not mean to imply- I mean, that no one thinks that you would- we just want you to be cared for.”

Bilbo floundered to find a way to phrase his next sentence delicately. “While I... appreciate the care you are all taking,” he finally settled on, “I intend to spend my heat by myself.”

“Well of course,” Balin said from where he’d been listening in, sounding rather shocked that someone might propose the contrary. “We haven’t courted you yet! No dwarf would ever expect an omega to accept them with so little offered.”

“Enough chatter,” Thorin grumbled from the front. “Master Baggins, you may smoke this pipe of yours if you must but you will also eat before you settle down to sleep tonight. You have not touched your meal and that is not acceptable.”

Bilbo’s mouth moved. “I certainly would have eaten, had this... this _fuss_ not erupted,” he said in protest. “So I hardly think- oh bother it, it’s not even worth the breath, is it?” He fumbled on the ground to pick up the now stone-cold stew, only to have it swept out of his hands and replaced with fresh by a beaming Bombur. He nodded his thanks with resignation, and settled down to do as Thorin had commanded (grumbling under his breath all the while).

When he settled down to sleep, he found himself surrounded by piles of blankets and the watchful guard of a company of dwarves all tending to their weapons with an uncanny sort of dedication. Low murmurs passed between them, and it was to those oddly comforting rumbles that Bilbo found himself drifting off to sleep, feeling both quite bewildered and utterly safe.

He awoke the next morning, convinced he was being boiled alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Bilbo did not remember much of his heat - he never had, not since he was a tween and had decided quite firmly that none of the alphas in the Shire were for him, and he’d simply have to learn to take care of himself.

He vaguely remembered waking, burning hot and with the scent of alphas heavy in the air, thinking for one blissful moment that he was in the care of his own alpha, wasn’t that nice? There was an arm firmly wrapped around him, and a mouth trailing down his neck, sending prickly jolts of sensation through his body. He remembered relaxing for a moment, before the thought of - _unbonded_ came to him and _not mine_ and _getoffgetoff_ and he remembered twisting and snarling, lashing out at the blurry body attached to him- remembered the mixture of satisfaction and regret at the bewildered whimper-whine that his attacker? (was attacker the right word? Bilbo wasn’t sure) let out, loosening his grip, and then a voice- Gloin? he thought it was Gloin- and hands pulling away-

“Fili, Fili, let go of Master Baggins, there’s a lad - no Fili, I’m not a threat, Fili - oh bollocks - Mahal fucking wept, the little bastard just stabbed me! Thorin, your nephew’s gone bloody heat-mad here!”

And Bilbo had twitched and growled and pulled on one of the blankets to retreat - there was a nice corner he had found, he recalled, and although he had still scented alphas - thick, heavy strength in the air, they were keeping away. Guarding him, he had thought, oddly satisfied by the notion.

And then snatches-

his fingers, scrabbling at his own thighs, the slickness somehow _more_ and _wanting_ more than he could recall ever wanting before-

the temptation to just decide on an alpha, the half-thought of _why weren’t they fighting, wasn’t he good enough for their desire_ -

Gloin’s voice a constant rumble in the background-

“Yes Dwalin, that’s a very impressive buck you’ve just dragged in there, I’m sure our hobbit will be very impressed when he sees it - why don’t you go and find another one? Take Kili with you-”

”No, Bombur, I don’t think Master Baggins will be wanting some food, and I also think that given his attempts to scratch Fili’s eyes out it _would not be advisable to try_ \- No!”-

And Gandalf varying between amusement and stern reproval-

And thunder rumbling in the distance, feeling as though the mountains had uprooted themselves and were desperately brawling in some fit of rage-

“Stone giants, Thorin Oakenshield, and I do not believe even you could convince them to stop - _put your sword down, that was not a challenge Master Oakenshield!”_ -

and the _yearning_ , his fingers and his hands and all the little tricks he had taught himself just not _enough_ when he could _feel_ their lust-

And-

And-

****

Bilbo hummed softly as he drifted back into consciousness, rolling his shoulders out and grimacing at the ache of strained muscles. Light was slowly creeping in around a parting in the wall that had been built to the ceiling in the cave, the entrance barely large enough for a man to slide in sideways. From outside, muffled by the thick stone, he could hear the dawn song of the birds and he stirred a little, loathe to disturb the peace.

The dwarves were dozing fitfully around him, weapons in hand and all faced outwards as if to preserve his modesty. The most awake were Balin and Dori, stationed grimly by the entrance and staring outwards with their axes drawn even in the peace of dawn. Thorin was closest to the hobbit, his face stern even in his light doze, his sword held in one hand and his shield cuddled in the other arm. A small pile of dead animals lay beyond him, the creatures halfway skinned - Dwalin was working his way through the pile with slow determination, though his head kept falling forward only to jolt back awake every few minutes.

Bilbo lay still for a few more moments, enjoying the feeling of the warm blankets against his naked skin, and then sighed. His clothes were discarded only a few steps away, and he reached to tug them on with only the smallest hint of regret.

Dori’s head jerked towards Bilbo at the movement, and then just as abruptly jerked away, the dwarf making a squeaking embarrassed noise that sounded decidedly odd coming from one of the more hardened alphas of the group. Bilbo fought back the giggle the was threatening to emerge, settling for pulling his clothes on swiftly.

“Are you- that is, are you clothed, Master Baggins?” Dori called after a few moments, his eyes still carefully fixed away from the hobbit. The other dwarves began to stir at the noise, Thorin jolting upwards in one sudden movement. There was something distinctly absurd at the way the dwarven king stared around his surroundings in his waking daze, as if expecting a threat to come melting out of the walls, and Bilbo had to stifle his amusement again.

“I am entirely decent, thank you Master Dori,” Bilbo called back. The dwarves all seemed to hone in on his voice, Kili perking up with an eager grin.

“Bilbo!” And then at a look from his uncle, hastily correcting himself. “I mean, Mister Baggins! Your heat is done?”

“I hardly think I’d be talking if it weren’t,” Bilbo said dryly, grunting as he stretched. “I see we weren’t attacked in the-” he cut himself off as he caught sight of Fili. “Your face! I didn’t do that to you did I? I am ever so sorry, I should have warned you-”

And indeed, there were scratch-marks the entire left side of Fili’s face, fading into purpled bruising nearer his nose. Fili scratched at the uninjured side of his face, looking entirely sheepish. “No, no,” the blond dwarf said hastily. “Not your fault at all. I was inappropriate and it’s all my fault - will you forgive me?” His eyes widened and his lower lip wobbled slightly, and Bilbo felt as though he were staring into the faces of his younger cousins caught in the middle of some misdemeanour. 

“You were very impressive,” Kili told Bilbo earnestly. “I didn’t even know omegas could fight! No one’s ever mentioned dwarf omegas fighting.”

Bilbo’s eyes narrowed, as he tried to determine whether or not he should be insulted. After a few moments, he decided to take it as an innocent enquiry - perhaps if he nipped all these odd dwarf ideas in the bud, they would be able to continue on with as little disruption as necessary. 

“It’s not common,” he said slowly, “but there are certainly records of omegas fighting in the Shire. I believe Brandon Brandybuck quite enjoyed hunting wolves during the Fell Winter, and Bullroarer Took used to fight goblins alongside his bonded omega, Primrose, some eighty years ago. Certainly all omegas are willing to fight during heat though - it’s instinctive for us hobbits. Is it really not so for dwarves?”

The majority of the dwarves looked horrified at the thought, although both Kili and Ori seemed to be trying to imagine an omega riding out to fight goblins - Kili’s expression growing increasingly more perplexed as his imagination failed him.

It was Balin who answered finally. “No,” he said, looking as though he were trying to find the right words. “I - certainly, no. All omegas will have an alpha of their own kin until they choose to bond. We would not _dream_ of putting them in a position where they would have to- no, unthinkable.” 

“Mother once hit our first father with a frying pan,” Kili pointed out slowly.

“But that was because he insulted Uncle Thorin,” Fili said. “I don’t think-”

The brothers both paused at the thunderous look on Thorin’s face. “Your mother,” he said slowly, with a soft rage, “Was forced hit your first father _herself_? Why was your second father not there to act as her fists?”

Bilbo couldn't quite work out what part of Thorin's words confused him more - his outrage at an omega hitting someone, or his belief that an alpha should have stood around to hit people at her request.

“Well,” Dori said, attempting a reassuring smile at Bilbo as Thorin continued to rage at his nephews. “Don’t suppose fighting’s going to be a great concern to you anymore, laddie, because we’ll all be more’n willing to bare blades for you. No need for you to be fretting about that nasty business, right Nori?” he elbowed his brother, with a hint of pride.

Nori was looking a little more speculative however. “Don’t suppose he’d have to if he wasn’t wanting to,” he said, “but it’s never a bad thing to know how to fight. Seems to me like the hobbits might have the right of it.”

Bilbo felt a sudden rush of fondness for the dwarf he had previously considered a rather shady character (and with due cause; he had spotted several pieces of Lord Elrond’s silverware that had mysteriously made their way into Nori’s pack). He sent an appreciative smile in Nori’s direction, and the dwarf straightened his back with some pride, apparently trying to fight down a look of accomplishment. “I’d be happy to teach you some tricks,” Nori said, eager to keep Bilbo’s approval. “Just little things I taught Ori to keep Men away on the streets. Always comforting to know that you can defend yourself, and you can carry a knife near anywhere.”

“Bah!” Oin said, pointing his ear-trumpet menacingly at Nori, and Bilbo jumped. He’d quite forgotten the older dwarf’s presence. “We leave him to you and he’ll be picking pockets and poisoning blades and the like! If he’s to be taught how to fight, it should at least be by someone who knows how to use an axe properly!”

“And that’d be you, would it?” Dori asked, enraged on behalf of his brother - however dubious he was personally of Bilbo needing to know anything of violence. “The hobbit’s too small to be using an axe and he’ll not be on the battlefield anyway. Better he learns the sly tricks than the warrior arts that’ll see him dead!”

“Well, I,” Bilbo began, not entirely certain how the new argument had erupted. He could only count his fortunes that Thorin was still too busy upbraiding his nephews to pay attention to what the rest of his company were saying.

It was precisely this scene that Gandalf returned to, his look of angered bewilderment turning into one of comprehension as he saw Bilbo in the centre of the squabbling dwarves. He waited a few more moments, expecting the dwarves to notice him, and on failure, struck his staff to the ground with a great rumble of thunder.

An uncertain silence fell over the company.

“Now then,” Gandalf said pleasantly. “As we are all awake and coherent once more, should we discuss moving on?”

There was a pregnant silence, broken by Ori’s nervous piping. “I’m, ah, not too sure Master Dwalin is-” he trailed off, and elaborated by poking Dwalin’s drowsing form with a wary finger.

Dwalin’s head came up at the poke to glare dazedly at the wall. “I am an alpha and a dwarf,” he growled. “Nothing is beyond my strength. I will fight to the death!” His head drooped forward again, then jolted back up. “Nothing!”

“Perhaps a few hours would do no harm?” Bilbo proposed uncertainly, unable to tear his eyes from the spectacle.

Gandalf sighed in resignation. “Certainly, a few hours is of no concern to me,” he said, waving a hand loosely. “Someone persuade Master Dwalin that he would better serve were he capable of keeping his eyes open.”

***

Gandalf seemed in somewhat of a better mood when they finally set off again after midday, having managed to elbow his way past the dwarves to a position by Bilbo’s side.

“It is perhaps for the best that your heat struck when it did,” he confided cheerfully in the hobbit. “I am not sure what you remember of the past two days, but it seems the stone giants were having quite the argument last night! Why, we could have been caught up in a most dreadful situation.” He paused, and then lowered his head conspiringly towards Bilbo. “Master Oakenshield was quite distressed by the thought they might be disturbing you.”

“Master Oakenshield,” Bilbo grumbled, “Was quite distressed by the thought of my carrying my own equipment this morning. I am not entirely sure he may even be considered rational any more.” He eyed Thorin as he said this, making sure that his words were not overheard. In all honestly, Bilbo could make neither head nor tails of the dwarves’ behaviour anymore. It seemed as though they no longer considered him able of doing tasks that just days before had been well within his capacity - their logic really rather astounded him.

“I would have thought you would appreciate the care they are taking with you, my dear boy,” Gandalf said with an easy smile. “You were rather liberal with your complaints earlier in the journey.”

“I would rather their respect than their protection,” Bilbo hissed as they trudged along the path. “If I had wanted to be smothered by an alpha, I would have chosen one in my tweens. They’re acting as though they’re courting me, Gandalf, and that is entirely ridiculous!”

Gandalf simply chuckled at Bilbo, falling silent as they marched on.

***

It was somewhere around the third day of travel when things once again began to go wrong. The skies, which had been miraculously clear for the previous days had clouded over ominously, and the dwarves had crowded together muttering furiously as flakes of snow began to drift down.

Bilbo had never been too fond of snow, but he was even less fond of being promptly bundled into the dwarven king’s massive fur coat, and having Fili and Kili sent off to scout for shelter. “I do wonder, Master Oakenshield, how we will ever reach Erebor if we stop at every sign of discomfort,” he sniped irritably, only to be quite roundly ignored. 

Nori and Dwalin both drifted closer to him as the wind picked up - as if, Bilbo thought quite uncharitably, they thought the wind might carry him off. He was really beginning to lose patience with how the dwaves were acting, although he had been rather grateful when Nori had snuck a knife into his pocket one night to accompany Sting. He was forced to retract some of his unkind thoughts about Thorin’s behaviour, however, when the snow began clumping down in thick waves, and it became apparent they could truly not travel in the weather.

“There’s a cave not far from here Uncle,” Kili called from his position ahead, hurrying back to the company. “It’s not ideal, but it’ll do for shelter.”

Thorin nodded his approval, but it was to Bilbo that Kili turned eagerly, a smile splitting his face. “We’re really quite near shelter, Mister Baggins,” he said reassuringly. “We’ll get you safe and warm in no time.”

Bilbo, who was feeling quite adequately warm in Thorin’s coat, smiled back awkwardly. The awkwardness of the expression did not stop Kili from lighting up at the sign of approbation, bounding back to the front of the company with a beam on his face. Thorin seemed oddly approving of the exchange, clasping a hand on Kili’s shoulder for a long moment before releasing him to guide their way to shelter.

The dry cave was quite welcome by the time the company reached it, and Thorin had only mildest of reprimands when he realised that it was not sealed at the back, but rather stretched into a tunnel sloping downwards. All the dwarves seemed to accept this as the best option as the snow seemed to be showing no signs of slowing outside - and there was only minimal complaint as the watch was assigned, one facing the outside and the other keeping a careful eye at the back.

Bilbo, of course, was placed firmly in the middle of the group and told not to worry himself with any thought of keeping watch, venturing outside to gather firewood, or indeed even returning Thorin’s coat. Indeed, the dwarven king seem to regard the hobbit’s draped form with some proprietary pride, pausing every so often to more firmly wrap Bilbo in its depths.

For all the dwarves’ paranoia however, they still could not anticipate the goblin attack.

It came somewhere past midnight, the majority of the company heaped together in a pile of furs and warm bodies. Bilbo had managed to shrug out of Thorin’s coat before dozing off, the dwarven king almost pouting at the return. Bifur was stalking around the back of the cave, muttering to himself with his axe in hand, and pausing every so often to glower into the darkness. Oin was posted at the front, tending to his weapon with an uncanny kind of fondness and all but daring any to challenge his guard.

The first any of them knew of the attack was when Bombur shifted, and found himself rolling towards the middle of the floor. His eyes sprung open in bewilderment at his change in position and he noticed the floor seemed to be sagging in the middle - and then a crack widened and opened and they all found themselves falling.

Bilbo could not recall much of the ensuing battle - he woke to a jolting fall and an almighty yelling and found himself face-to-face with a most terrible looking goblin leering at him, a blade in hand. He had barely a moment to fumble for Sting before Fili’s sword came crashing down on the beast’s neck, spraying blood everywhere.

Bilbo blinked, and found himself pressed against Kili’s back, the dwarf pushing him away from the goblins as best he could. Thorin had Orcrist in hand, the mighty blade glowing an uncanny blue as it dispatched goblin after goblin. Somehow Bilbo found himself with Sting in hand, but barely able to use it; Kili and Fili were quite determined in their protection.

The numbers were far from being on their side however, and the dwarves began to fall underneath the weight of the goblins. Their weapons were seized and their hands bound, and the goblins began to jeer as they pushed and prodded them along the twisting tunnels. The rage of the dwarves was immense, and Bilbo could have sworn he saw Dwalin doing his best to headbutt the six goblins tasked with dragging him along. He drew in a gasping breath when they emerged out into what seemed to be warren of goblin productivity; long bridges of rock spread out at their feet, and in the distance he could see what seemed to be excessive wooden structures climbing up the cliffs, joined by long, rickety wooden bridges. Bilbo was quite sure he had never seen the like in all his life.

He would never be sure, in retrospect, what made him fall. Perhaps it was a goblin poking him at the precisely the wrong moment, perhaps there was a misplaced rock, or perhaps he simply tripped over his own feet. Whatever the cause, Bilbo tripped at a most inopportune moment, falling onto one his goblin guards and off the bridge they were on. There was a cry that went up from the dwarves - and then another plummeting body joined Bilbo in his fall as Kili leapt off the bridge after him.

(Bilbo would never know, but would come to suspect that Kili was not the only one who tried to make the same suicidal jump. He was simply the only one that happened to succeed.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to reviews I’ve had: my email address for fanfiction is biblioklept9@gmail.com if you’d like to contact me for any reason. For those worried about the future of the fic: I can certainly promise that not ALL the dwarves will have sex with Bilbo. Gloin’s married after all! Beyond that, I make no guarantees either way. :) For those more curious about a/b/o dynamics, I second the rec for http://archiveofourown.org/works/403644/chapters/665489 as a basic explanation. If you’re still confused after that, feel free to drop me a message and I’ll have a go at explaining how it works in this ‘verse. Finally, thanks for the lovely comments - I really appreciate them all!

There was an odd ringing sound in Bilbo’s ears when he next opened his eyes, finding himself smothered in a hefty pile of soft mushrooms that must have broken his fall. Miraculously, although his hands remained bound in front of him, he could feel no damage save for bruises and aches and the spinning in his head that made him want to vomit.

The cavern they had fallen into was lit by an oddly glowing fungus - although lit would be a generous way to term the muted glow and the long shadows it cast. Still, the light was enough for Bilbo to see Kili’s unconscious form lying nearby, and barely a foot beyond him, the goblin that had not had such a generous landing. There was an sick feeling rising in Bilbo’s throat that he had to swallow back compulsively, looking at the broken bones that had been forced out of the goblin’s and realising how easily it could have been him.

He looked back at Kili, willing some sign of life, and let out a shaking sound of relief as he saw the dwarf’s chest rise and fall, albeit shakily. Bilbo yanked at the rope binding his hands, making a sound of frustration as they did not give way. Irritably, he brought them up to his mouth and began pulling at the knot with his teeth.

He paused when he heard a sound nearby; a rock skittling across the floor, and the near silent slip-slap of bare feet on stone. Bilbo edged back into the shadow, his heart pounding in his ears as a creature came slipping into view.

And what a creature it was! Bilbo had thought the goblins loathsome, but this thing stood beyond even them. White skin that looked almost slimy to the touch, hunched over with massive pale eyes taken up the majority of its face, a mouth nearly empty of teeth save for six, broken, sharped fangs gaping out. It hissed softly to itself, humming and gulping and swallowing with a disturbing ‘gollum’ sound that sent chills down Bilbo’s back. 

It turned, its oversized eyes widening as they fell on the broken goblin and it let out a squeal of delight that Bilbo could not help but flinch at.

“Foodses!” it cried. “Oh we are lucky today, are we not? Fresh goblinss meat for uss, no more slippery, sslimy fishes today!” It rushed over quite happily, scratching at the goblin’s flesh. Bilbo twisted his wrists frantically, trying to loosen the rope, a horrified fear building up in him. Certainly the creature could not be thinking- would not-

His yammering thoughts froze as the thing let out a slimy ‘gollum’ swallow, and bent its head to lick at the blood glistening from one of the goblin’s wounds. “Ohhh,” the creature cried happily. “Oh, it has been so longs since we have had ssweet meats and fleshy foods!”

It went in again, nudging at the goblin - and then paused as it raised it head and looked beyond the broken body. No, Bilbo thought desperately, no it could not have seen-

“What’sss this, my precious?” the creature hissed, its bulbous eyes fixed quite clearly on Kili. “Another goblinss?” It crept closer, webbed hand trailing behind it, and Bilbo caught his breath. His bonds were beginning to loosen, as he intensified his struggles silently.

“No, no, not goblinss, gollum,” the creature murmured almost lovingly to itself. “Not skins and boness, no it isn’t. Will it tastes good, do we think my precious?”

Bilbo caught himself before he could make noise of triumph as his hands slipped free, his eyes still tracking the uncanny looking creature that was drawing ever closer to the unconscious Kili.

“Oh yes, we have been good today, gollum,” it said swallowing heavily and making an almost happy panting sounds. “Yes, we will be having feasties today, yes we will, we will!”

Bilbo reached for Sting, only to catch a curse as he realised where it now resided - in the hands of goblins, marching far above their hands. He patted himself down frantically, nearly crying in relief as he stumbled across the small blade Nori had slipped into his pocket not two days ago. ‘When I next see that dwarf,’ Bilbo resolved to himself, not allowing the thought that they might not see each other again to cross his mind, ‘I am going to kiss him’.

He firmed his grip on the blade, pushing himself up onto his feet near silently as the creature reached out to Kili. He took a step closer, and barely kept from jumping as it recoiled from the dwarf with a horrible cry.

“It’s alivess!” the thing wailed. “Tricksy creature, moving on us, pretendsing to be dead!” It hissed at Kili unhappily, and then crept closer again when the dwarf made no further movement. “We can deals with that though, can’t we my preciouss? Yes we can, we can.” It made another heavy ‘gollum’ sounds as it picked up a rock in one hand. “Yess, good little morssel, we’ll feasts on you tonight, we will.” It raised the rock above its head, ready to bring down on Kili - and Bilbo lunged, blade in hand.

His first slash went wide, catching at the creature’s shoulder rather than sinking deep into its heart as Bilbo had intended. It screamed nonetheless, wailing its pain to the ceiling before turning with a snarl, still holding its rock.

“Another one!” it snarled. “Another tricksy morsel! We will beat this one in its head, until its skull splits and we will eats it, fleshy head to fleshy toe, little stabby foods!”

Bilbo was shaking from head to toe, pulling the blade back for another stab as the creature swung forward with its rock. His blade went wide again, as he tried to block the swing with his left arm - and he howled as he felt the bone break beneath the blow. He stumbled backwards, the creature advancing on him, but by some miracle did not drop the dagger.

“Flessh and bloods,” the creature hissed. “We wills break you.” It lunged forward and Bilbo staggered left, swinging his arm forward - and this time his aim struck true, the small dagger piercing flesh and pushing through the thing’s ribs to strike at its heart.

They both froze, the thing looking down in some surprise at its chest. It cocked its head to one side, blood well around the blade, and murmured out a confused “Precious?” Shaking, Bilbo pulled his arm back, clenching at the knife and stepping out of range - and the pale creature fell forward onto slumped knees, blinking its bulging eyes once, twice- and then completing its fall forward, quite dead.

Not thinking entirely clearly, Bilbo wiped his knife off on his trousers, pocketing it once again. He swallowed uncertainly, nudging at the creature’s body with a foot. It did not react, and he swallowed again. He could not stop shaking, and the pain he’d briefly forgotten about came back as throbbing agony in his left arm.

“Oh,” he whispered to himself. “Oh, this is a bad situation.” He clenched his right fist briefly, and when he was more or less certain he could move, he hurried over to where Kili lay, trying his very hardest not to jolt his arm. 

He was relieved to find Kili was still breathing - and indeed, seemed to be stirring from the faint frown twitching at his forehead. There were no obvious wounds, and it seemed that the dwarf had been nearly as fortunate as Bilbo himself in his landing. Bilbo let out a nearly inaudible sigh of relief, and knelt unevenly at Kili’s side. He fumbled in his pocket for his knife, and spent half a minute trying to awkwardly saw at Kili’s bonds with a single hand, pausing only when Kili gave a full-body twitch and opened his eyes.

“Kili,” Bilbo sighed in relief. “Thank the Valar you’re awake. I was starting to get worried.”

Kili blinked muzzily at Bilbo, his frown deepening. “Bilbo?” he said slowly, uncertainly, raising his bound hands to his sleeve. “You’ve got blood...?”

“Not mine, no need to worry,” Bilbo assured him hastily. “Now, just hold your hands there-” and he finally managed to cut the rope and let Kili’s hands free.

The dark-haired dwarf didn’t seem particularly reassured by Bilbo’s statement, frowning slightly as he sorted through it. “Not yours? Was it a goblin?” He sounded particularly childish, blinking uncertainly every so often, and Bilbo couldn’t help a quick smile.

“No, no, there was a...” he struggled for the right word. “A scavenger down here that thought we would be easy pickings. Absolutely fine, no problems whatsoever, I’ve dealt with him.”

“A scavenger?” Kili lurched forward slightly, and then had to grasp on to the floor as if it had treacherously decided to move on him. “You’re unharmed though? No one harmed you?” he looked genuinely upset at the thought, and Bilbo hummed and hawwed slightly.

“Well,” he said slowly. “I think I _may_ have broken my arm-” and here Kili let out an audible noise of distress, and Bilbo quickly tried to play it done. “Although on second thoughts I’m probably just overstating it, it’s likely to be just a fracture, and _really_ Kili-”

“Bi-” Kili began, and then “Mr. Baggins, I’m so sorry!”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “I hardly think it’s inappropriate for you to call me Bilbo,” he said with a sigh. “And I certainly don’t know what you’re apologising for.”

“You’re hurt,” Kili nearly wailed. “And I let it happen!”

“I’m hardly the only one that’s hurt,” Bilbo said a little huffily. “And you must have hit your head quite terribly to be acting so irrationally, as I’d say it’s perfectly clear that I handled myself quite adequately.” He suspected he was feeling a little irrational himself, as there was no particular reasonable explanation for the offence he was taking. Nonetheless, he felt as though he had to clear up all misconceptions for Kili once and for all. “ _In fact_ ,” he said firmly. “Given that creature was intending to eat you before I killed it, I believe that not only did I handle myself, I was also able to protect _you_. Which, if you think about it, is really the proper, hobbit way of handling things - I dare say the Lady Primrose would have been entirely proud of me - my great grand-aunt you know,” he said, tugging proudly on his waistcoat and forgetting entirely about his injury for the split-second it took to resurge in agony. “Oh, _ow_ , although perhaps I should learn to _dodge_ ,” he whimpered, quite undoing the effect of his previous speech.

It was perhaps fortunate, therefore, that it appeared Kili had heard barely any of what Bilbo had said past the fact that the hobbit had saved his life. His face had slowly blanched white, and he had dropped to his knees in front of Bilbo midway through the speech, and bowed his head. It was with some consternation that Bilbo noticed Kili’s position, a bewildered look overtaking his face.

“What in-” he began, and was interrupted by Kili’s stuttering speech.

“I- I apologise for my failure,” he whispered, his face drawn in agony, unable to look up from the floor. “I understand that in allowing you to get hurt that I have failed as an alpha- and - and I withdraw my suit and-” his shoulders hunched and he finally looked up. “ _Please_ don’t think my kin like me!” he cried. “Fili and Thorin would definitely have protected you, and you shouldn’t think badly of them because of me- and - and-” he was panting harshly, and Bilbo was horrified to see what might be tears at his eyes.

“Kili,” he said, clasping onto his shoulder uncertainly. “You don’t - this is ridiculous! I certainly don’t blame you for anything!”

Kili shivered a bit, but hope was beginning to creep into his eyes. “You don’t?” he whispered, and Bilbo straightened his shoulders.

“Certainly not,” Bilbo said firmly. “Now come on, stand up, don’t be staying down there-”

“Any dwarf omega would have cast me off,” Kili said softly.

“Well, I’m not a dwarf am I? We hobbits go about things entirely more sensibly.”

Kili swallowed uncertainly, reaching out shakily to grasp onto Bilbo’s outstretched hand. “Does this mean you’ll allow me to continue courting you?” he asked, his eyes wide - hardly daring to hope.

“Court - oh-” Bilbo sputtered slightly. He looked into Kili’s eyes, and felt his heart wrench at the dwarf’s face. He wavered for a moment, and then thought of Kili’s good nature and easy laughter. After a moment he sighed, and let his shoulders slump, a faint smile pulling reluctantly at the corner of his lips. “Under the eyes of my ancestors and in the warmth of my heart, _yes_ , I will allow you to court me.” He paused, and frowned thoughtfully. “Wait, what do you mean continue?” 

Kili seemed too relieved to hear Bilbo’s question, staggering to his feet and hugging the hobbit desperately. “ _Thank you_ ,” he said fervently. “I won’t fail you again, I _promise_.”

Bilbo managed to keep his arm clear of the hug, and kept stiff at first, uncertain. It had been an awfully long time since someone had last embraced him - he couldn’t really recall the last occasion. Perhaps when he’d given the Gamgees some extra coin on the birth of their son, Hamfast? He took a shaky breath, feeling a little light-headed at Kili’s scent, and then slumped into his arms, relaxing completely.

“S’alright,” he murmured softly, feeling oddly content where he was. “I know you won’t.” He discretely buried his nose in Kili’s neck and inhaled again. There was something oddly addictive about feeling so safe, even though a little voice in his head was pointing out just how unsafe they in fact were, and would he like to look at the corpse of that thing to prove it, maybe they should start moving, in fact they really should-

Kili drew back finally, a blush having taken over most of his face. “I’m sorry,” he muttered quietly. “That was inappropriate.” He seemed guiltily happy with himself nonetheless.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “I think I’ve had more apologies out of you in the past hour than I have the entire journey,” he said tartly. “And none of them have made any sense. What was inappropriate about that?”

“I touched you below the shoulders,” Kili said, hunching again slightly. “Uncle would surely have reprimanded me if he saw it.”

“That was inappropriate touching?” Bilbo said dryly. “Kili, I think you dwarves are missing on so much of the finer things in life if you consider that _inappropriate_.” Bilbo remembered rather a lot of touching in his tweens with a number of betas that was far more inappropriate with a great deal of fondness. He paused, something twitching on the edge of his mind, and then-

“Oh yes! What did you mean by _continue_ courting?”

Kili looked rather taken aback. “I thought you knew,” he said.

“Knew what?”

“Well,” Kili began, prevaricating slightly. “You’re an omega in the company of alphas. The only that’s permitted is if you’re courting - it’s really unusual of course, because normally there’s a chaperone or five sent along, but we thought maybe you did things differently because you’re a hobbit and of course, only Gloin wasn’t interested in courting so he said he was happy to be a chaperone and you didn’t reject any of us and-”

“Kili,” Bilbo said. “Please do breathe.”

“Well, why _wouldn’t_ you think we were courting you?” Kili asked, looking utterly confused. “You’re friendly, and you’re brave - you came along with us, when most omegas would have hidden away - and you willingly fed us with no recompense, and you’re,” he blushed slightly, staring at his feet, “You’re attractive, and you’re always kind to me an’ Fili and why would you think anyone wouldn’t want to court you? Among dwarves it’s always assumed the alpha is looking to the omega, unless one or the other specifically says they aren’t.”

“Well,” Bilbo said, feeling a little flattered at the litany of his attributes. “Declaration of courting is normally a little more formal among hobbits.” He shrugged a little. “There’s far fewer alphas than there are omegas, you see, so we don’t tend to assume anything of them until they specifically ask us.”

Kili looked as though someone had taken a brick to his head. “Fewer alphas?” he squeaked. “Really?”

“Really,” Bilbo said with a wry grin. “In fact, it’s entirely unheard of for an omega to take more than one alpha. It’s considered quite selfish, you see.” He paused, cocking his head slightly and thinking of the dwarves in the company. There was an odd feeling in his stomach, rather like butterflies. They were all interested in him? How very unusual! Even - and his thoughts took on a faintly cringing note, as if even thinking it might draw his displeasure - even Thorin? Certainly, he’d been very protective of Bilbo, and his actions took on a slightly different note as a courting alpha, rather than an alpha acting as protective kin. Bilbo flushed slightly. “I can see some benefits of it, I suppose,” he conceded mildly, feeling a little warm.

He shook himself firmly, trying to chase the distracting thoughts away. “This is all by-the-by of course, given that we seem to be in a rather distressing situation at the moment.”

Kili looked around, as if he had quite forgotten their location and gave a sheepish grin. “You’re probably right there, Mister B-” and then he corrected himself with some relish. “ _Bilbo_.”

“I am most definitely right,” Bilbo said. “What should we do, do you think?”

“No doubt Uncle will have got the others free by now, so we should look to getting out of these tunnels ourselves,” Kili said confidently, as if no other situation were possible. “We’ll be able to track down the others more easily outside, where we don’t have to worry about the goblins.”

Bilbo didn’t have the heart to suggest that there might be a few more problems in this plan of action than Kili foresaw - most notably the chance that the other dwarves would be unable to escape. In any case, he reasoned to himself, they would certainly be best served by moving to a somewhat safer location and rethinking there.

“And how, precisely, do we know the way out?” he asked instead. “We are lucky that there is some form of light here, but I daresay as we get deeper in we will not be so fortunate.”

Kili looked a little amused at Bilbo’s question. “I _am_ a dwarf,” he said. “My stone-sense might not be on the level of Bofur’s, but I’m capable of finding a path to the surface, whatever the state of the lighting.” He shrugged. “No, the only thing we have to worry about is fixing up that injury of yours and catching up to the others.” He did frown at this point. “Hopefully they’ll have managed to get my bow off those damned goblins. I feel a bit naked without it.”

“Are you entirely unarmed?” Bilbo asked, a little worried at the thought. He would forfeit his small blade if he had to - Kili was by far the more capable of the two when it came to fighting, he had no doubt about that - but he would really rather not. Fortunately, Kili’s laughter dispelled that worry.

“One blade in my hair, two strapped under my shirt and one by my leg,” he informed Bilbo cheerfully. “Uncle would never allow us to be unarmed.”

“In your hair-?” Bilbo began, and then shook his head. “No, I don’t suppose I want to know.”

“No, really,” Kili insisted, pulling his hair up to show the hobbit. “It’s the best idea Fili and I came up with, look-” he made as if to pull it out, and then cursed when he sent the blade skittering across the floor. “Um,” he said, blushing a little bit. “I’ve not dropped a blade in years, I swear-” He knelt, sweeping his hand across the floor to locate his knife - and then paused.

“What’s this?” he murmured to himself, picking up something that gleamed softly, and then he laughed. “Look, Bilbo, a ring! Seems we find treasure in the most unlikely of places on this quest.”

He pocketing his knife, and stood, twirling the ring over and over in his hand. Bilbo found himself watching, quite unable to take his eyes off each flip and twist - and found his eyes refocusing suddenly as Kili shoved it in front of his face, near beaming.

“Not much of a courting gift, I know,” he said. “But it didn’t occur to any of us to bring proper gifts along, so it’ll have to do for the moment.”

Bilbo reached out uncertainly, finding himself smiling back at Kili. “Courting gifts?” he enquired. “Is this something I should be concerned about?” The ring felt oddly right in his hand, and he toyed briefly with the idea of putting it on - but no, certainly it would be too big for him. He slipped inside an inner waistcoat pocket instead, letting it rest near his heart.

“No concern at all,” Kili said joyfully. “When we retake Erebor we’ll make up for the lack ten-fold!” He reached out to tug at Bilbo’s hair playfully. “I think you’d look good with a few sapphires braided in, but Fili said that emeralds would look better.”

“I think I’d look quite ridiculous with either,” Bilbo said, shaking his head at the very thought, and Kili laughed.

“We’ll see,” he said. “But this is a good sign nonetheless. Gold for fortune, and a ring for beginnings.” He squared his shoulders happily. “Right, follow me. We’ll be out in no time.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments and the lovely reception. <3 As a friendly point, I'd just like to reiterate that this _is_ going to be a polyamorous relationship and I make no guarantee that all the dwarves involved are going to be conventionally attractive or desirable by today's standards. Bilbo's a friendly and open-minded hobbit, after all. :)

True to his word, Kili managed to find his way quite competently - with only the occasional backtracking as side-tunnels grew too low to travel in, or sheared off into holes and broken floors. Bilbo had no words for just how grateful he was for Kili’s presence, stumbling around in the dark and clutching on to the dwarf’s arm fervently. Certainly, without a guide he would have been hopelessly lost in the warren of tunnels.

His arm nagged at him, throbbing painfully as they clambered around, but Kili was careful to support Bilbo when necessary - and sometimes, Bilbo suspected, where not necessary, settling his arm comfortably around Bilbo’s waist and pretending that the ground was too rough for easy walking.

For all of the trust that Bilbo felt for Kili (and to his surprise, he did indeed trust the young dwarf rather a lot), he couldn’t help the low gasp of relief that rushed out of his mouth as the tunnel began to slope steeply upwards and the faintest glimmers of sunlight bounced off the walls down to them. Kili grinned rather smugly at him.

“Told you I could find a way out,” he said, reaching out to tug fondly on Bilbo’s hair again. “Not far now, and then we can look to finding the others.”

Bilbo grinned up at Kili, bumping their shoulders together. “I withdraw all of my complaints then,” he said, only half-serious. “Should I ever need a guide underground again, I shall know who to come to.”

Kili seemed to take this as the greatest of compliments, his chest puffed out and shoulders broad. “Fili’s nearly as good as me,” he admitted, pride overlaying his words. “But I’ll always be happy to guide you wherever you want to go.” He lifted Bilbo up over an outcrop of rock without much thought, and Bilbo took the manhandling as gracefully as he knew how.

The sunlight seemed unnaturally bright as they finally came to the exit, Bilbo contentedly breathing in air that seemed far fresher than any he had smelt in the dank underground. He squinted slightly against the light, and then frowned slightly.

“Have we managed to cross the Misty Mountains?” he asked incredulously, looking out across a view that stretched for miles. He could recognise none of the landscape; plains leading into forest and beyond it, far into the distance lay what seemed to be the faint outline of another mountain. Bilbo squinted dubiously, not certain whether the image was the product of his imagination or not.

“Looks like it,” Kili said, sounding a little awed himself. “Guess the goblins found us a shortcut.” There was a great clamour not far away from where they stood, birds flying up from a clumping of trees at the sound of roaring voices, and Kili grinned wildly. “And that’ll be Uncle and the others,” he said with great satisfaction. “Told you we’d find them.”

“Are you sure?” Bilbo said uncertainly, being ushered along, “The chances are ridiculous-”

But whatever the chances, Kili was correct on the owners of the voices. Bilbo shook his head in utter disbelief.

“We have to go back!” Thorin was shouting at Gandalf, waving Orcrist for emphasis. “We won’t leave either of them there!”

“We must be _sensible_ ,” Gandalf said with some exasperation, and the other dwarves all started shouting at him again. Bilbo felt an overwhelming amount of fondness at the sight of the company, a helpless grin overtaking his face, and Kili matched it eagerly. The dwarf cocked his head at Bilbo, clasped his shoulder and lent in for a quick hug, and then starting shouting himself.

“Uncle! Fili!” he bellowed, and Bilbo laughed.

There was an utter silence as the dwarves turned and caught sight of the two, looks of disbelief altering into ones of utter relief. Gandalf leant on his staff, closing his eyes with a contented smile as a jumble of dwarves sprinted towards the pair, all shouting their own enquiries.

“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Kili laughed, shoving Fili off him, “Bilbo’s injured though, we’ll need to splint his arm-”

Bilbo ignored the reunion and Oin’s attempt at inspecting his injury, grabbing hold of Nori’s arm firmly and pulling him away from the crowd. Nori followed quite obediently, looking both a little bewildered and a little nervous. His expression melted away into one of complete shock as Bilbo tugged him down with one hand and placed a firm kiss on his lips.

“ _That_ ,” he said, a little shakily, grinning up at the dwarf who was touching his lips in amazement, unable to believe what had just happened. “That was for the blade you slipped me.” He smiled wildly at the Company’s babbled questions, and laughed helplessly as Kili snuck back over to him, tugging him into a one-armed hug.

The chaos settled slightly as Oin thumped his way to Bilbo’s side, muttering rather furious imprecations at the healing abilities of everyone save himself, and _oh_ , wasn’t it just _perfect_ that those blasted goblins had made off with all his salves and ointments and the hobbit needed to stay _right there_ not moving _thank you very much_. Nori edged away, looking rather dazed and hovering his fingers over his mouth as if to recall the sensation of Bilbo’s lips - a few of the dwarves took full advantage of the flailing group to slip their elbows into his ribs as a gentle reminder to be aware. Balin seemed particularly clumsy in his reminders, a beatific look on his face.

“How did you get hurt?” Thorin growled as Oin began to carefully splint the hobbit’s arm.

Bilbo considered this question for a few seconds. “Bit of an argument with a scavenger,” he said after a moment. “It wanted to eat us, and I was understandably- ow!” he yelped as Oin pulled a little hard, the older dwarf apologising immediately with an unhappy twist to his mouth - grumbling once again about blasted goblins. “Understandably not amenable to that plan,” Bilbo finished off a bit weakly.

“ _Eat_ you?” Fili asked, looking entirely disturbed at the thought.

“Ah, yes,” Bilbo said, shuddering a little at the memory. “It was talking to itself and that... certainly seemed to be its intention.”

Oin had manage to bandage his arm quite competently to Bilbo’s admiration, and was now occupied in forming a sling out of whatever spare fabric the company had to offer. Bofur in particular seemed to have a wealth of otherwise useless items coming out of every pocket, proffering a spare shirt to be torn with a wide, happy smile.

Thorin twitched a little, as a thought occurred to him. He carefully eyed his nephew as if trying to decide if Kili had potentially failed in any way. “Was there any failure?” he finally asked bluntly, looking as though the words pained him to ask. “I - Kili was not insufficient in any way, that you came to harm?”

“Oh no,” Bilbo rushed to assure him. “I was simply closer to the creature, there was absolutely nothing to blame Kili for. I was quite able to deal with it.” He sent an easy smile in the archer’s direction, wanting to wipe the uncomfortably morose expression off his face. There was something distinctly wrong about having the young dwarf unhappy, and Bilbo was feeling a little protective of him (he was, after all, being courted by the dwarf and that was an important consideration!) “Kili was perfect in fact, got us out with no trouble - I imagine I would have been quite hopelessly lost without his guidance.”

Thorin’s doubts were cast aside at that, looked unbearably proud at that statement and throwing what seemed a victorious look at Nori, who had been elbowed as far away from the hobbit as the other dwarves could get him. 

“We got to chat a bit too,” Kili said, with a wide grin. “Uncle, did you know in the Shire _there are more omegas than alphas?_ ” 

Dwalin dropped his axe.

“Did you mishear Mister Baggins? Or hit your head while you were down there?” Balin laughed, after an uncomfortable moment of silence.

Bilbo snorted. “He’s speaking the truth,” he said cheerfully, nodding his thanks to Oin as the dwarf finally decided he was as satisfied as he could get with treating Bilbo’s injury. “I believe there are some...” he hummed to himself in thought, “Probably some hundred and twenty omegas, of which perhaps fifty are unbonded?” He paused, to make sure his calculations were correct. “Of course, some have taken beta lovers, and there’s one set of bonded where there are two omegas to the alpha.” He smirked a little to himself. “That said, the Mistresses Took-Sackville seem far more interested in each other than they do in their alpha. Rumour has it that he’s only permitted in their beds during heat.”

Dori made an unhealthy choking sound, and Bilbo blinked at him. “Are you quite alright Master Dori?” he asked, and the dwarf waved a hand helplessly at him.

“ _Two omegas_?” he managed to get out after a few moments. “To _one alpha_?” He sounded entirely outraged at the prospect.

“Yes?” Bilbo said slowly. “You said you dwarves had more than one alpha to each omega, how is that so different?”

The stupefied looks the dwarves wore indicated it was entirely different, but they couldn’t work out how to explain it. Thorin’s face was slowly morphing from a faintly disapproving look to one of mild speculation, eyeing Bilbo as if he were an uncommon opportunity that needed only to be exploited. The hobbit shifted warily, tugging on his waistcoat with one hand, and laughing slightly.

“Well, we should probably be moving on, should we not?” he said, his voice a little high-pitched. He really was not sure how to act around Thorin now that Kili had indicated his actions were that of a courting alpha - although Kili had also implied some of the other dwarves were courting, hadn’t he? No, he had implied that they all were, save Gloin, although certainly, that would just be the imagination of youth, would it not? The thought that all of these battle-hardened dwarves would consider him desirable - well, he’d managed to get his ego under control quite some years ago, and there was no reason to return to those flights of fancy.

“Indeed,” Thorin said after a pause. “Perhaps we will talk more of the difference between dwarves and hobbits later.” The speculative note had not left his deep voice, and Bilbo looked towards Kili for some reassurance. Instead, he managed to catch Fili’s eye, the blond dwarf looking up from his brother and smiling at Bilbo with a hint of - was that lust?

“I’ve got your little needle for you, laddie,” Bofur said, appearing by his side with a broad grin. “Took it off those wretched things and held onto it just in case.” He held Sting out by the blade, and fixed his eyes quite appropriately on Bilbo’s face, still smiling. It faded slightly when Kili appeared at Bilbo’s back, taking the blade off him.

“Our thanks,” Kili said smugly, trailing his fingers against Bilbo’s hand. Bifur looked a little aghast at this wholly improper behaviour, but Bofur was too busy staring at where he’d previously held Sting as if he expected the blade to reappear in his hand. “Here,” Kili said, turning to Bilbo, “Let me.”

He strapped the blade on Bilbo, tightening the scabbard carefully and kept his touch as carefully impersonal as possible. This did not stop Bifur - or Bofur now that he realised precisely what was going on - from looking as though Kili had stripped Bilbo naked and was proceeding to ravish him in front of their eyes. Bilbo shrugged at them a little awkwardly, not entirely sure how to manoeuvre with his arm strapped.

“I do appreciate you remembering to snatch it for me,” Bilbo told Bofur earnestly. “It’s something of a comfort to have blade now.”

Bofur blushed a little, demurring, but could not quite take his eyes off where Kili had leant into Bilbo’s shoulder.

“You should walk with me and Fili,” Kili murmured against Bilbo’s ear, and Bilbo could not quite stop the shiver that ran down his spine. The hot breath tingled quite pleasantly on the tip of his ear, and he was not entirely sure whether the dwarf knew this or not - certainly he had seemed nowhere near this forward when they were alone. Perhaps ears were not such an erogenous zone for dwarves? He cast a sideways look at Kili, and indeed, he seemed quite unaware of his effect on Bilbo. Fili, on the other hand, was standing not three feet away from the pair, and rather looked as though he had received a pile of unexpected gifts and not even at another’s naming-day party.

“Perhaps,” Bilbo said softly to the alpha, sounding quite unintentionally throaty. Kili swallowed at the sound, his eyes widening, and shifting backwards. He bit at his lip, and Bifur cleared his throat very pointedly.

“Right,” Kili said, a blush taking over his entire face. “Well, we’ll just be - over there. If you want to. Join us, that is.”

There was something about Bofur’s downcast gaze that had Bilbo swerving away from Fili and Kili when they started moving again, feeling guilty for something he did not truly understanding. Instead, he gravitated towards Gloin who, aside from commenting occasionally on Oin’s fine ability with healing, was content to keep mostly silent.

They traipsed on, Bilbo quite happy to be heading downhill now - and also at his lightened load, for the vast majority of his belongings lay back with the goblins. He was more or less content at what he carried in that moment however, with a knife in his pocket and a blade strapped to his side, and a good quantity of Buck Leaf tucked in his inside pocket alongside the ring Kili had gifted him. He was quite certain his tune would change later in the day however - although he noted with some relief that at least some of the dwarves had managed to retain a quantity of their belongings, and they would not be going thirsty at this particular moment in time.

They had entered into what seemed a truer part of the forest, the trees thickening and light fading slightly when Gloin was replaced by another dwarf; Ori, looking quite nervously determined.

“I was wondering, Mister Baggins,” Ori said after a few moments of stuttering, brushing one of his braids back, and fiddling nervously with his hands. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me a bit more about hobbits. I’m a bit of a scholar you see, and I know so very little about your race.”

Bilbo cast a quick look around the company, but there seemed to be no particular worry. Dwalin stalked ahead of course, his axe bared ready for attack and his hammer slung over one shoulder, but it all seemed rather calm, broken up by the twittering of birds making their nests. “I don’t see why not,” the hobbit said pleasantly, smiling up at the young dwarf.

“Well,” Ori began, pulling out a notebook from where it was apparently tucked under three layers of cardigans. “Have any hobbits bonded to dwarves before?” His eyes were wide, and he snuck a glance over to Nori before plastering them to Bilbo’s face once more. Oin twisted to face the pair, before conspicuously raising his ear trumpet in their direction while pretending to be looking elsewhere. 

Shaking his head slightly at the dwarf’s subtlety (or rather, lack thereof) Bilbo mulled his words over before answering Ori. “We’ve not got records of it happening in the past two hundred years, but certainly it has in the past. Any who claim Harfoot descent most certainly have dwarvish ancestors somewhere in their lines.” He shrugged slightly, scuffing his foot against a roughish rock. “We’re quite capable of bonding with any of the races though - some claim that’s where we earned the name halflings. Half a race you see, and we draw the other half from whoever we so please.”

Ori looked a little disturbed. “So, you’d be able to take an _elvish_ lover if you wanted?” he asked, his voice conveying just how strange he found the notion. He had a pen poised over an open page, but seemed to pay little attention to it, more occupied with not tripping over tree roots.

“And bear their child too, yes,” Bilbo said, amused. “Annabeth Brandybuck was half-elven, some five hundred years ago. She chose to remain among hobbits, however, and - well, faded, I suppose as the elves name it, following the death of her beloved.” 

He flinched slightly as a bird flung itself up from a tree, cawing loudly, his hand twitching towards Sting rather compulsively. “Soon be dusk,” he commented mildly, trying to distract from his unusual reaction.

Fortunately Ori did not seem to have noticed, for he simply agreed, glancing towards Thorin as if expecting him to call an immediate stop. When it did not happen, he turned back with more questions brimming. “Why don’t more hobbits marry outside of their race then? I mean, if it’s not an issue of children for you, and you have so many unbonded omegas...” he trailed off, and then added hastily, “I do not mean to be rude, I hope you realise.”

“It’s not a matter of no interest,” Bilbo said slowly. “But the female omegas are capable of bearing children with betas and there are ways of reducing heat to mild discomfort. It’s rather that... well...” he chewed on his lip. “We are not entirely _fond_ of outsiders, you see - not that they are unwelcome!” he hastened to add. “Simply that most hobbits are quite content within the Shire, and it seems an entirely unnecessary business to go running away on the off-chance that we might meet some pleasant alpha elsewhere.” He couldn’t help the blush tinging his ears as he cast a look at Kili. As he turned back to face Ori, he entirely failed to notice the nasty-looking glowers both Oin and Dori cast the young prince’s way.

“In any case,” Bilbo continued on. “It is hardly as though we are in dire need of children, and I dare say most of the council are quite happy that not all omegas are bonded considered the sheer sizes of their famil-” He paused at the sound of a howl in the distance. “Surely that is not a Warg?” he said, distress colouring his voice, and Ori fumbled for his sling-shot.

Thorin cursed soundly from his position at the front of the company, and turned to face the others grimly. “It seems our friendly pursuers from before have caught our scents,” he growled out. “We should move quickly.”

Bilbo found himself herded firmly under Dwalin’s arm as they sped up, crashing through the trees with a distressing amount of sound. It seemed to no avail, however, as the howling of Wargs grew closer with ever passing minute, Thorin gritting his teeth as he searched for a more defensible spot.

Luck was certainly not on their side, for as they came stumbling out of one set of trees they were faced with another obstacle - a cliff face, dropping a sheer thirty metres down. Gandalf swung around, his staff held ready. “Quick!” he called. “Up the trees, and hope they do not notice us!”

There was not a moment to even consider how he was to climb before Bilbo found himself nearly thrown up the trunk of a tree by Dwalin, Nori managing to to catch him and haul him up by his good arm. “Not a worry, Master Baggins,” Nori murmured, his grin a little wild. “We’ll have you as safe as can be.” His teeth were a worrying shade of white in the darkening sky, and Bilbo almost swore he could see the blood pulsing desperately in his veins. “Maybe you draw your little blade and keep it ready just in case, hm?”

He pushed Bilbo up a few more branches, and then positioned himself one below as the other dwarves scrambled up their own trees as best they could. 

They fell silent, a tenseness overtaking the group as the first of the Wargs came into sight, snuffling intently at the ground. It was accompanied by a square-faced orc, grunting to his companion as he swung a crude-looking hammer in one hand.

It felt as though a single breath would bring the whole situation crashing down around them, and Bilbo realised only when he began to feel light-headed that he had indeed stopped breathing. Even when he had been scrabbling at the ropes that bound his hands, fearful of the harm the scavenger intended - even then, there hadn’t been this hopeless, paralysing fear. He swallowed hesitantly, and Nori’s hand found its way to his ankle, gripping briefly before releasing.

The War drew closer, and Bilbo could see Kili hand twitching intently towards his bow, a look of furious indecision on his face. Thorin raised a hand to still him - and then the Warg howled, long and loud, fixing its eyes on Bombur.

Nori cursed softly, and then again, louder as more orcs joined the scouts. Bilbo counted them in dismay as they bounded in, some accompanied by massive Wargs - ten, twenty, _fifty_ of them gathering on the slope above and eyeing the dwarves with wicked delight.

Kili had an arrow notched, waiting for the first of them to come into range, but they seemed content to stay back for them moment, yowling and yipping like the beasts they rode, waving their weapons about gleefully in the air. After some sort of consultation between two of the largest orcs, one came forward, dragging its hammer beside it. Kili tensed, correcting his aim - and the orc barely dodged out of the way, snarling its rage out at the dwarves as it skipped back a few steps.

The orcs fell into a huddled consultation, and the Company stayed silent, eyeing each other with a wary kind of dismay. Dwalin looked half-tempted to go leaping out of his tree and run at his enemies in a wild berserking rage, but Balin lay a hand on his brother’s arm and stilled him.

“Gandalf!” Bofur shouted. “Is there nothing you can do?”

Gandalf was right at the top of his own tree, perched rather like a bedraggled looking stork with his staff held outstretched. “Be calm,” he said in return, his voice carrying across effortlessly. “We are not yet out of options.”

“Easy for a bloody wizard to say,” Nori grumbled unhappily. 

“Ah,” Bilbo said uncertainly, squinting to where the orcs seemed to have decided on something, throwing their heads backs in uncanny mockery of laughter. “We may be running out of options shortly.” He shifted on his branch. “They seem to have discovered fire.”

And indeed, the orcs were circling around the company, careful to stay out of range, eerie grins on their faces and blazing torches in their hands. They were chanting something that sounded almost similar to human speech - _burn burn tree and fern, shrivel and scorch_ \- and Bilbo shuddered.

“Back!” Thorin called unhappily as the flames were kindled against the first tree. “Give it space!”

This was easier said than done as the fire began to spread - fanned inwards by the orcs who were slamming into each other and seemed to be trying to work out the words to a song. _Roast ‘em ‘till beards blaze and eyes glaze_ , Bilbo thought he could hear, and he did his best to clamber over to the next tree, Nori reaching up to support him.

“This will not do,” Gandalf intoned furiously, his beard almost bristling with outrage. “Outwitted by orcs! Certainly not!” He pulled a pine cone down and lit it himself. “Let us see how they like their own medicine!” He passed the steadily blazing cone to Bifur who regarded it with some bewilderment, before drawing his arm back and pitching it with perfect aim in the orcs’ direction.

It hit a Warg who had drawn too close, and it flung itself backwards, yelping miserably and clawing at its eyes. Fili let out a loud cheer, only to morph it into a curse as a tree began to topple in their direction.

From there they were all tumbling down, shouting and cursing, leaping from tree to tree in a useless attempt to keep themselves out of danger.

“Cliff’s coming!” Bofur shouted unhappily, and the last tree available toppled backwards to balance precariously over the cliff’s edge. Bilbo barely managed to keep hold with his hand, slipping and sliding perilously close to the edge before Nori dragged him back up, his face grim.

There was a distressed shout from the back end of the tree as Ori did slip - Dori grabbing hold of him desperately before falling himself, Gandalf shoving out his staff to catch them - and then the two dwarves dangling on the strength of a single hand, a deathly drop beneath them.

It certainly seemed as though the situation could not get any worse, but by some horrible miracle it was at precisely that moment that it did.


	5. Chapter 5

A voice howled clearly across the flames, a massive figure standing out at the top of the hill the other orcs were gathered at, looking on at the situation with a kind of ugly, insatiable glee. Pale-skinned and hook-armed, it had a white Warg as tall as itself as its companion and the other orcs cowered away from it.

“ _Azog_ ,” Dwalin hissed out as a low curse. 

Thorin raised his eyes to the pale orc, a look of fury overtaking his face. It almost seemed as though the world had closed itself in on the dwarf king, all else ceasing to be relevant. He pushed himself to his feet and moved forward slowly, the sounds of his companions and the chaos seeming to fade away as he reached the cliff and stepped off the tree. His sword was blazing blue in his right hand, and he squared his shoulders, raised his head - and looked back at Bilbo.

Grimly he turned forward again, scuffing out a mark at the foot of the tree and assuming a guard position, all but daring Azog to come and meet him. “Stay back,” he commanded the others tersely, as they swung up as best they could onto their precarious perch. “He will not pass me.”

Azog bared his teeth in a wild snarl, flinging his arms out wide and baring his chest. Bilbo shivered faintly, and felt Dwalin’s arm come down around him as a brief reassurance. “No one will harm you,” he rumbled low in Bilbo’s ear, before pushing the hobbit backwards and making his way to Thorin’s side.

There was another of those awful pauses, where the time itself seemed to still and no one dared draw a breath to break it. Bilbo could feel himself observe the whole situation in moments of picture-stillness; Dwalin, battle-ready beside his king, the two of them blocking off the way to the others of the company; Oin scrambling to get Dori and Ori hauled up from where they were dangling, Gandalf gritting his teeth and keeping the staff firm in his hands; Kili his bow drawn, but not daring to loose the arrow yet; Gloin grim-faced as he sought his own purchase on the tree, itching to draw his axe; Bombur, pleasant face drawn into a snarl and Bofur trying to keep his balance and edging forward.

Still, the two sides did not grow closer. Azog threw his head back and howled a challenge, his white Warg joining in a chorus. The flames spread, black smoke billowing up and up. Thorin tightened his grip on his sword, and did not move.

The orcs gathered round Azog, teeth bared and snarling as he glared down at Thorin. Behind Bilbo, Dori and Ori managed to scramble up and Gandalf freed his staff from their grasp with some relief. Slowly, the others were making their way onto solid ground, weapons held ready.

On the hill, Azog seemed to make his decision, turning to his Warg and leaping up on its back.

“Here it comes,” Balin muttered to himself, readying his axe grimly. Dwalin grunted, not taking his eyes off the orcs.

Kili drew closer to Bilbo, his arms nearly shaking with the strain of keeping his bow drawn. He bared his teeth in the impression of a grin, his eyes half-wild. “My turn to protect you,” he murmured, his voice as reassuring as he could make it, and Bilbo tightened his grip on Sting.

“As long as you aren’t planning on dying for me, I think we can work something out,” he said as dryly as he could, shocked that his voice wasn’t shaking.

Kili barked out at laugh, and still as Azog finally made his move.

Bilbo could never quite believe just how fast a Warg could move - faster than a horse, a pack of them tearing down after their leader, massive beasts designed for murder. Kili loosed his arrow, swearing as it buried itself in Azog’s shoulder rather than his neck.

The smoke made it difficult to see, the heat growing overwhelming as the flames continued to spread. There were howls - dwarf, beast, orc, hard to tell - and Thorin, rolling to the side out of the white Warg’s teeth, driving his blade into the creature’s neck. Azog leapt off its back as it fell dying, massive mace drawn back in his hand.

Blows exchanged - Azog’s mace battering down on Thorin’s namesake, Dwalin swearing as he tried to reach his king, blocked by another orc. Kili fumbling for another arrow, unable to get a clean shot at Azog and furious because of it. Azog slamming his mace down - and then twisting, ramming his hooked arm forward and snarling as he made contact with Thorin’s shoulder, wrenching forward.

Bilbo found himself moving without thinking, starting forward as Thorin dropped to one knee, his mouth open in agony. Kili was right beside him, a wordless shout leaving his throat - Fili was struggling with his blades, caught up with a warg, furiously cursing. The hobbit had no idea what he was really doing, his sword outstretched helplessly, his body moving without his permission. Thorin was grasping for his own weapon, snarling defiance, Azog moving towards him-

Bilbo rammed into Azog’s side, slamming down with Sting in an uncoordinated flail. The orc reeled back in shock, howling at the wound that sliced down his waist, turning around to swing his mace - Kili slammed into the other side with a shout, roaring something in a language Bilbo did not understand, and the pale orc stumbled back. He regained his feet, baring sharp teeth in rage at the interlopers, and then laughed roughly as Thorin stumbled to his feet.

“Ambal akashuga,” the orc said mockingly, glancing at Bilbo, as if they had a chance at understanding his words. “Az-” his mouth moved saying something Bilbo could not hear, before finishing with a nasty grin, “-asht.”

“Get back,” Thorin said roughly, his face drawn in pain as he tried to block Azog’s way. The orc laughed again as Bilbo shifted, trying to ready his sword better.

Azog laughed again, and moved forward, uncannily fast for a creature of his side. He met Thorin’s blade in a fast clash of metal, handling his mace as effortlessly as if it were made of feathers. Kili darted in from the left, but Azog lashed out with his spare arm, the hook slicing across Kili’s arm.

“Az-Oakenshield,” Azog mocked, “ _Az_.”

Bilbo charged again, this time knocked aside with a contemptuously easy flick of Azog’s arm, his immobile arm jolting and flaring as he stumbled backwards. Bilbo’s foot slipped, and he glanced backwards, face turning white as he realised just how near the cliff-edge he was.

Azog seemed to realise this too, for his face split into a wide grin and he shouted something into the air that had a massive grey Warg howling in answer. Kili shot a terrified look Bilbo’s way, diving towards him but Dwalin managed to reach the group first, bringing his hammer around in a controlled semi-circle just as the Warg reached them.

Bilbo shuddered at the sound of shattering bone, quite certain he would never be able to unsee the sight of a skull bulging and breaking in under the force of a hammer. He swallowed and sent a desperately grateful look Dwalin’s way that the warrior didn’t notice. Bilbo tracked his eyes over the rest of the company - desperate for something, he didn’t know what. There seemed to be more orcs than there had been, the dead falling and replaced by two, three more in their places, never-ending.

Gandalf was shouting something that Bilbo could not quite distinguish, his staff lit up with a white light. He gestured towards the cliff-edge again on seeing Bilbo watching him, taking a few steps back himself, before diving over the edge.

“What-” Bilbo cried, and then let his mouth gape open as he saw a massive eagle snatch the wizard out of the air.

“Kili!” he shouted. “Dwalin!” The two glanced at him, taking their eyes off where Azog was being joined by his subordinates. Thorin was falling back to their position, forced closer and closer to the edge, and Bilbo took a chance.

“JUMP!” he shouted, and followed his words with actions. 

Bilbo did not think he would ever forget that fall; he had been afraid of heights long before he had run out of his front door to follow the dwarves and after this night he would be afraid of heights for a long time more. The air whistling around his head, the curious swooping feeling that sang in his stomach and the absolute fear that maybe had misunderstood Gandalf as he watched the ground approach.

It could only have been a second or two that he fell before talons were snatching him up, throwing him high again and onto a massive eagle’s back. The bird swooped again as one by one the dwarves flung themselves off in retreat, catching Fili this time and throwing the dwarf up to join Bilbo.

The orcs shrieked in rage as their prey escaped, Azog watching with a grim expression on his scarred face. He raised his mace into the air as they escaped, and turned away to face the fire that was now a far greater threat than the vanishing dwarves.

_And may he burn in those flames_ , Bilbo thought viciously, clinging onto the eagle’s back with one hand. Fili was breathing heavily behind him, slowly replacing his swords in his sheaths and looking across at the land that stretched beneath them.

“A lucky save,” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the shouting he had done in battle, and Bilbo nodded tersely as the eagle adjusted its wings to glide more effortlessly.

Fili edged closer, slip-siding across feathers to hover a bare breath away from Bilbo’s back. “You are unharmed?” he asked, lowering his voice in concern.

“As unharmed as I was to begin with,” Bilbo said, and chanced a glance downwards. His stomach lurched unpleasantly at the sight of how small the trees were beneath them, and he closed his eyes with a whimper. Fili immediately plastered himself against the hobbit, his hands skimming over Bilbo’s body to check for wounds.

“Are you sure? You sounded hurt,” the dwarf said, as frantic as a mother hen, and Bilbo would have grinned if he could have managed to unclench his teeth.

“I... am not fond of heights,” he gritted out eventually, feeling Fili sag in relief and remove his hands.

“Ah,” Fili murmured. “You will do best if you focus on something else.”

“And what should I focus on, Master Dwarf?” Bilbo said, and he could feel Fili shrug, his warmth bleeding across the gap.

“I’ll always be willing to distract you,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against Bilbo’s ear and Bilbo stiffened helplessly, biting at his lip to prevent himself from whimpering. Fili chuckled, and the sensation sent jolts down his spine.

“I thought so,” the dwarf said rather smugly. “I noticed it with Kili earlier.” He ran a gentle finger up the shell of Bilbo’s ear and then, very lightly, scraped his fingernail across the tip.

Bilbo groaned, and Fili swallowed heavily at the noise.

“I-” Bilbo began, and then swivelled to face Fili, his face clear even in the dark sky. “Kili said that he was not the only one courting me.” 

Fili looked surprised at the change in subject. “Of course he’s not!” he said with a frown. “Why would you think that? Have we been remiss in our attention?” He paused, and tugged at one moustache braid a little unhappily. “I know we have not given you the appropriate gifts, but you did not say that would halt anyone’s suit. If you would prefer to wait until we have the gold to promise you fortune and the gems to promise-”

He was cut off by Bilbo vehemently shaking his head. “No, that is not what I- I mean, in the Shire it is done differently, that is all.”

“How so?” Fili said, bringing his hands to rest on Bilbo’s waist, wrapping around his hips possessively. The dwarf’s hands were large and dark against Bilbo’s clothing, and they felt almost brand-hot.

“We- An alpha would specifically ask an omega if they would allow them courting rights. There are traditional words of acceptance - under my ancestors and in my home - and there is never more than one alpha courting an omega at a time. After a few months, the omega decides whether he or she wants to keep the alpha or break the courting off. I mean, of course the alpha can choose to withdraw their suit, but-”

Fili hummed thoughtfully. “Only one at a time?” he asked, and then frowned. “But you also only take one alpha to your bed.” He leant in, and Bilbo shivered at his scent, at the dwarf’s presence almost overwhelmingly _there_. Fili smirked slightly, and moved his head to nuzzle at Bilbo’s neck. “Do I need to persuade you of the benefits of the dwarven way?” he asked teasingly. “Should I ask you if you will accept my suit and my brother’s suit and my uncle’s and any others you feel would protect you and love you and hold you dear?” He nipped at Bilbo’s ears, and Bilbo flung his head back with a gasp.

“I have- ah!” Bilbo cried out, and then swallowed and tried again. “I have accepted your brother’s request to court Master Fili, so you have one less to worry about there.”

Fili laughed, moving one hand away from Bilbo’s hip to wrap around his stomach. “And what about mine?” he said. “Bilbo Baggins, will you accept my request to court you? Will you allow me to cherish you?”

“I-” Bilbo began and shivered. “This is very improper,” he muttered furiously to himself and scowled as he felt Fili chuckle. “Fine, yes, I will allow it,” he grumbled, and Fili pouted slightly.

“No home and ancestors?” he teased playfully, and Bilbo childishly stuck his tongue out. Fili’s eyes darkened and Bilbo rather quickly retracted it, a flush burning high on his cheeks. A low rumble echoed in the dwarf’s chest, somewhere between a laugh and a growl, and he buried his nose once more in Bilbo’s neck.

Bilbo closed his own eyes, leaning back into Fili’s embrace and feeling quite unbearably safe. He had noticed much the same sensation with Kili, and it sent soft thrills through him, jolting and happy. It was not something he’d noticed with hobbit alphas - perhaps if he had, he would not have been so fast to turn down their requests in his youth.

He felt Fili smile against his neck as the eagle’s wings altered trajectory again, sending them into a downward glide. “We land soon,” he said, not bothering to raise his head. “Did I sufficiently distract you?”

Bilbo laughed shortly, squinting at the sight of a large crag jutting upwards that the eagle seemed to be aiming for. “You did,” he admitted. “Although I hope that was not all intended as distraction!”

“I confess to other motivations,” Fili said without shame. He sighed as they landed, and detached himself quite unhappily from Bilbo’s back, sliding down off the eagle and catching Bilbo as the hobbit did the same.

“Our thanks for the rescue,” Bilbo said to the eagle, and it inclined its head quite solemnly, an amused glint in its eyes as it took flight once again.

Fili looked quite unutterably smug as one by one each of the dwarves rejoined them, all more or less in one piece, although with some injuries that Oin took to clucking over. He met Kili’s eyes and nodded slightly, and Bilbo watched as the brothers’ grins took on a wicked edge.

“I hope you are not planning anything foolish,” he said firmly as Kili came to hover by his shoulder, cradling his arm lightly to his body, and decided he was not comforted at all by their laughter. 

They sought shelter at the bottom of the crag that night, curled up together to make up for the loss of their blankets and their other belongings. One of the dwarves pulled out a tinderbox from his shoe and kindled a fire, and the others passed around what water they had, but it had grown too dark to search for food. Bilbo kept quite silent about the hunger that had begun to gnaw inside, content to know that the dwarves would likely provide tomorrow morning.

Fili and Kili had taken up the positions closest to Bilbo, and although the other dwarves grumbled loudly about it, they were too tired to make much of a fuss. Thorin once again relinquished his fur coat to Bilbo’s comfort, daring briefly to raise a hand to his cheek with a muttered, “We must talk in the morning,” that would have had Bilbo worry had he not been being bullied into sleep by the brothers.

He did not dream that night, comforted by the fur he was wrapped and the presence of the alphas around him.


	6. Chapter 6

The dawn came far too soon, bright light shining insistently in his eyes. Bilbo grumbled unhappily, turning to bury his head in Kili’s arm and block the light out. Kili mumbled something, and moved him more into his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. Bilbo was able to stay there for a long few moments, just about dozing off again, until someone cleared their voice quite pointedly.

“Go ‘way,” Bilbo muttered, when the voice-clearer repeated the action again, louder.

“Now lad,” Gloin said gently, “I know you’re comfortable there, but it’s not proper behaviour until you’ve bonded, is it?”

Bilbo scowled, and finally squinted his eyes open. “I’m not a tween,” he complained blearily. “I’m fully capable of protecting my own virtue, should I decide it needs protecting.”

“Aye, well,” Gloin said awkwardly. “Still...”

Bilbo sighed and sat up to Kili’s sleepy protests. “You dwarves confuse me so much,” he said plaintively. “You’d let an omega have several alphas, but won’t even let them cuddle before they’re bonded? You act as though no one ever has pre-bond sex.”

There was a choking sound, and Bilbo blinked a few times before pin-pointing where it had come from. Bofur had seemingly been quite innocently filleting a few fish, and had been quite taken aback by Bilbo’s frank statements, coughing and spluttering over his own tongue.

Bilbo sighed heavily. “Don’t tell me. Dwarves don’t believe in pre-bond sex.”

Gloin had flushed quite scarlet at Bilbo’s words, humming and hawing and twisting at his hands. “It’s - ah, not typical, certainly. There are some omegas among dwarves who - ah, dedicate themselves to teaching an alpha how to- how to treat their bond-mate correctly, so they do not - do not come _inexperienced_ to bed, but, ah-” He looked as though he would prefer to be anywhere else in the world, and Bilbo raised a hand to stop him.

“I understand,” he said in resignation, and Gloin blew out a long, explosive sigh of relief.

Bilbo began to detach himself from Fili and Kili, ignoring their whines, and glanced at Gloin. “Do we have any plans for today?” he asked, and Gloin let his shoulders relax fully now that he was certain Bilbo would not be bringing up any more uncomfortable topics.

“First, we’ll be eating,” he said cheerfully, gesturing expansively to where Bofur was sat. “Some of the lads have been busy - there’s a river not far off. After that? Gandalf said something about knowing a fellow nearby, so I guess we’ll be heading in that direction to try and restock.”

Bilbo hummed slightly, taking a look around. “Is Thorin up yet?” he asked, and Gloin nodded.

“Aye, not far from here,” he said. “Went off with Dwalin for some purpose or another. They’ll be back soon enough if you had need of them.”

Bilbo shrugged as the rest of the dwarves began to stir. “Thorin wanted to talk about something,” he said vaguely, sniffing the air as Bofur began to put the fish over the fire. He wandered over, his stomach grumbling loud enough to be heard by a passerby, and plopped himself down beside Bofur.

Although their breakfast was uninspired by hobbit standards, plain river fish baked over a fire, Bilbo was near ready to swear it was the finest thing he had ever tasted by the time they ate. Bofur blushed bright red at the compliments, and Bombur looked halfway torn between disgruntlement that his own cooking had never resulted in such praise and pride that his brother was receiving the attention due him.

Thorin and Dwalin had still not returned by the time the last of food was polished off, but the Company seemed in no hurry to move. Fili and Kili were diverted away from Bilbo with some careful manoeuvring from Dori, and Bifur promptly took a seat beside the hobbit, looking quite intently into his eyes.

Bilbo shifted a little uncertainly, and Bifur attempted a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling in a way that rather reminded him of cheerful Bofur. Before Bilbo could say anything to break the silence that developed between them, Bifur carefully tapped his hands and then held his own. Bilbo blinked, cocking his head in curiosity, and Bifur smiled again. He carefully moved his hands in exaggerated signs and said a word that sounded oddly like harsh spitting and then waved his hand as if in greeting.

Balin choked a little on his pipe from where he was sat watching the pair.

“Master Bifur!” he said in sharp reprimand, and then switched language to the same odd sounding rumble. Bifur raised his chin in defiance and snarled something back that had Balin reeling slightly. The friendly atmosphere seemed to evaporate all at once as the two began gesturing in movements almost too fast to be seen, supplementing their unspoken argument with the occasional emphasised word or sentence.

Nori tapped Bilbo’s shoulder and jerked his head away from the bickering and Bilbo gratefully abandoned the two. They moved almost silently, clambering up to the top of the outcropping of rock, Nori careful to steady the hobbit ever so often. Once they were as high as they could easily go, Nori sat down, dangling his feet over the edge and facing out across the distance.

“See over there?” Nori said abruptly, pointing far into the horizon. There was the faint shape of what could be a mountain there, misted over by cloud and distance. “Erebor. Home, I guess.” He aimed a wry grin up at Bilbo, and Bilbo smiled back uncertainly, sliding down to sit beside him.

A silence grew again as Nori swung his feet lightly. He seemed perfectly comfortable like that, and Bilbo could feel his own tension, exacerbated by the arguing, subside. “S’nothing you did, you know,” Nori said finally, and Bilbo blinked slowly. “The arguing,” Nori clarified, with a flash of teeth.

“Ah,” Bilbo murmured, and Nori glanced at him again.

“Dwarves have their own language, y’see,” he said after a moment. “ _Khuzdul_. It’s... not something we let outsiders learn.” He shrugged. “Bifur’s got his head all scrambled up though, and he only speaks Khuzdul now. Guess he wanted you t’learn so you could speak to each other, but Balin... he’s old school.”

“I wouldn’t want to offend anyone,” Bilbo said after a moment, uncertain what to truly say. Did that mean that if he took an alpha he wouldn’t be able to learn their own language? How commonly was it spoken?

Nori snorted and raised his hand to hover by Bilbo’s cheek. “It’s not... offending,” he said, struggling to find the words. “I don’t... you haveta understand, if I - if any of my brothers or the lads here, not the nobles-” he closed his eyes, and started again. “We give our omegas everything we are,” he said firmly. “The old lines, like Balin’s, are used to negotiating their bonds. They don’t give everything up, they’ll expect to be the first in their placement and to meet you halfway. For us, we come as fourths and fifths if we’re lucky, if we fight hard and prove ourselves. If we have even a _chance_ we’d give you _everything_.”

Bilbo went very still, turning to face Nori straight on. The dwarf swallowed, but kept eye contact.

“Nori,” he said uncertainly, and Nori took his hand.

“Balin abides by the old laws,” he said, his hair unmoving even as a slight wind picked up. “He’d keep from you dwarven culture and language, because that’s what tradition says he has ta do. Me?” he shrugged awkwardly. “Even if you don’t consider me, I- it’s right you know, and Bifur knows that too. ‘Sides, I’ve never been good with rules. So.”

He took a deep breath, “ _Ai-menu Duzhuk_. Means at your service. It’s a common greeting. The hand-signs, called _iglishmek_ , say the exact same thing and they go like this.” He drew his thumb across his chest, and then raised his index fingers side-by-side before flicking a finger in Bilbo’s direction. “You try.” He paused briefly. “And don’t let Balin know about it either.”

When they slunk back down, Balin and Bifur had separated huffily to opposite sides of the camp. Thorin had rejoined the group and Bilbo paused slightly as he debated going over to the dwarven king. He moved to make sure his path passed by Bifur, laying a hand on his wrist briefly. When the dwarf looked up, Bilbo silently drew the signs in fast movement - and the risk was worth it for the beaming smile that lit up Bifur’s face, as if he had been given the most valuable gift in the world. Nori grinned sharply at the both of them with a certain proud tilt to his shoulders, and Bilbo couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming fondness for the both of them.

As he picked his way towards Thorin, he thought quite ruefully of just how indecent the Shire would think him at this moment. Two courtings in place, kissing a third and feeling a little as though his heart would burst with the odd sort of fondness that he would have called kinship before but now had an edge that thrilled him a little. He could accept both Fili and Kili, he was certain Nori had nearly declared himself - he was _wanted_ so thoroughly that he did not quite know what to do with himself.

Thorin watched him approach with an odd look his eyes, a faint smile quirking at the edges of his lips as if thinking something that pleased him immensely. He hovered his hand by Bilbo’s elbow, not quite touching, and once more the hobbit was drawn away from company to a relatively secluded area by the trees, out of earshot but well in sight.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin said after a few moments, his voice deep. Bilbo glanced upwards, unable to truly regret the height difference that had Thorin towering nearly a foot above him. He shivered faintly, but it was not unpleasant. Thorin almost smiled, but his words were solemn. ”It seems we must have a discussion about how often you choose to throw yourself into danger.”

Bilbo felt the pleasant shivers disappear abruptly, and a slow flush of indignation build in its place. “If you expect me to stand back and watch you or any member of this company die-” he said sharply, and Thorin raised a hand.

“I did not say that,” he said, and his voice remained strangely mild - a far cry from the angry, raging king from early in the journey. “I understand that hobbits are different-”

“We are _entirely_ different it seems,” Bilbo bristled. “We are more than willing to stand as Lady Primrose did when we need to.”

“You have mentioned her before,” Thorin said thoughtfully. “A bonded omega, fighting beside her alpha.” He smiled. “I daresay we dwarves would sing legends about such a one.” His eyes were full of meaning, and Bilbo felt a little as though he could not breathe.

“I-” he said uncertainly, and Thorin seemed to steel himself.

“We have been travelling together some two and a half months since we first left your door,” he said without further preamble. “I would hope that you know my worth as an alpha by now. I have not protected you as I should have, but I hope I have done the best I could have in the circumstances. While I cannot give you the courting gifts you are due, I can give you my oath that when I retake Erebor I will cover you in gems, the like which has never been seen before. I will see you wealthy beyond your imaginations, with gold enough to gild a nation. I would make you beloved of a King if you would have me as your first alpha Master Baggins.”

There was nothing Bilbo could really think to say to that, and Thorin stood proudly even as the silence stretched.

After a few more long moments, Bilbo sighed heavily, his hands twitching slightly. “It’s not-” he began, and then grimaced. “I am a _hobbit_ ,” he said finally, giving in to his failure to find better words. “You all speak of what I deserve and Kili and Fili debate what gold and gems and-” he made an incoherent noise and gestured with his hands. “I considered Fili and Kili because they _asked_ ,” he said finally. “Because they make me laugh and they talk to me and because being around them makes me feel happy. Perhaps it was rash of me to talk of courting with them so fast, but it is an unusual situation. But Master Oakenshield - Thorin - gold is pretty to be sure, but that is all it is to me. It’s metal. What would I do with a mountain of gems? How would it make my life better?”

Thorin looked taken quite aback, his hands loose and uncertain by his side.

“I don’t - I am not explaining myself well,” Bilbo said despairingly. He bit his lip, and tried to find better words. “In the Shire, we have a word for someone who can be courted by wealth - _gild-grubbers_. It’s not thought well of.” He shrugged. “We seek to be completed by our lover - to be happy and strong and whole, to be the strength from which children may grow well in. If you would forsake that completion for wealth then it’s wrong - you not only ensure that you will not be whole, but you also deny the Courting their own chance at completion.”

“So...” Thorin said slowly, his face as still as stone but his words almost wavering, if only a fraction. “You- deny me?”

“No- I don’t- That’s not what I’m saying!” Bilbo said in frustration, barely noticing as Thorin’s shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. “I am _saying_ that - oh, I don’t know you!” He looked up at Thorin imploringly. “You hated me at the start of the journey - thought I was useless. Then as soon as you found out I was an omega, everything about you changed. I don’t know who you are - the Thorin from the start or the Thorin now. Do you care for me, or do you care for a- a- breeder?” He looked around, scuffing one foot on the ground a little unhappily. “I can’t be courted by wealth,” he said miserably. “If I take an alpha, it will be one that I can trust to love me, not see me as a prize. It will be one I can raise children with, that I can talk with and laugh with and _love_. To do anything else would disgrace me.”

Swallowing, Bilbo brushed his hand against one of Thorin’s, meeting his eyes firmly. “I know you as a King,” he said. “I know you as someone your men trust. I know you are protective and possessive. Beyond that?” 

Thorin’s jaw moved slightly. “Beyond that,” he repeated, slowly.

“If you want an omega, then there are many in the Shire who would be willing to give you a chance to talk,” Bilbo said gently. “If you want _me_ , then you need to stop talking of gold.” He took a step back, and nodded slightly. Thorin made no move to stop him from leaving, and Bilbo hurried away with a low churning in his stomach.

***

Gandalf returned in good cheer, not an hour later. It seemed he had made busy in his absence and had not only met with his friend but also spun a tale of such value that this Beorn was willing to offer hospitality to the whole company.

“Now mind!” the Wizard said firmly as they trekked across the muddied ground with some cheer at the thought of a roof over their heads that night, and food not cooked over the campfire. “Beorn’s ways are not our own and he will not take kindly to insult. I would advise you all to be careful of your tongues in his presence.”

Not many of the Company were listening to him however; Thorin had discarded his sullen silence and was in intent discussion with both Dwalin and Balin, all three regularly glancing over in Bilbo’s direction. Bilbo was staring at his feet with some guilt, wondering if he had perhaps been indelicate or even too hard in his speech to Thorin and Fili and Kili were doing their best to break him out of his morose thoughts. For all of their efforts, it was Ori who distracted Bilbo the best; as they travelled closer to Beorn’s Halls, the young dwarf let out a cry of surprise.

“I have never seen a bee of that size before!” He flailed back slightly, edging closer into the company, and they stirred as a group.

Indeed, there was an insect near the size of Bilbo’s own fist buzzing rather near to them, the bright yellow-and-black a vibrant splash against the greens of the dale. Bilbo drew his breath in, quite unnerved by the sight, and Kili brushed his shoulder in comfort.

Gandalf chuckled slightly. “One of Master Beorn’s hive,” he said slightly. “The poor thing must be lost.” He drew his hand lightly to his mouth and let out a long blow of air that had the bee gusting away quite happily. “Beorn has quite the way with animals,” he said conversationally as they resumed their walk. “It comes with being a skin-changer.”

“A skin-changer?” Ori asked, now more curious than startled, ready for any information the Wizard might choose to impart.

“Indeed young Ori,” Gandalf said. “Sometimes he chooses to be a great black bear and at other times he chooses to be a great black-haired man. I daresay if you stood on your brother’s shoulders you would just about meet him eye-to-eye!”

“He sounds rather fearsome,” Bilbo said with raised eyebrows, and Gandalf nodded thoughtfully.

“He can be, he can be,” he said lightly. “Fortunately he is kind-hearted enough when not angered and I am sure everyone will be able to mind their manners in his presence.” His voice grew a little hard on the last few words, and the dwarves shuffled a little as they mumbled out their agreements.

The grass was slowly fading into great patches of flowers; thick clover gathered into groups as if planted. The single bee they had seen floated back to its companions; hundreds of the fist-sized insects perched on over-sized flower petals, their wings creating a buzzing loud enough that it near thrummed under the skin.

Some mile past the great fields of wild flowers, a wooden hall came into sight from where it had been hiding behind leafy trees. It was in a cluster of low-roofed buildings, thatch-covered and built of unshaped logs. Animals drifted by in groups as they approached, all with rather sharp gaze and an uncanny intelligence about their faces. One horse chose to fall in with the group, nudging quite curiously at Dori’s shoulder before trotting away again, ahead of them.

“He’ll have gone to make our host aware of our arrival,” Gandalf informed the group quietly. “Be careful of all creatures around here. I believe Beorn quite considers them his own children.”

Gandalf had not exaggerated the size or nature of his friend, for it was at that moment a hulking mountain of a man made his presence known. He was as described; over the height of two dwarves stood on top of each other, long black hair trailing down his back and a beard nearly as long as Bilbo bristling in front. His arms were the width of a hobbit child and the axe he held loosely in one hand no doubt weighed more than most of the company. For all of this, his brown eyes were surprisingly kind and though he did not bother to acknowledge any of the dwarves, he gave Bilbo a polite nod of his head and clasped Gandalf’s shoulder with one massive hand.

“The furthest hall has been readied for your use,” he said in a deep rumble. “Take your comfort as you will. Food will be brought to you soon enough.”

“Will you be joining us?” Gandalf asked politely, and there was something undeniably entertaining at seeing the tall Wizard craning his head up to meet their host’s eyes.

Beorn shook his head quite firmly, as if the thought made him quite uncomfortable. “Orcs to be hunted,” he said with some cheer. “And goblins too, if what you tell me of the goblin-king’s death is true!” He rumbled out a pleased laugh at the thought, and gestured the dwarves away. He paused Bilbo however, with an intent look underneath heavy eyebrows.

“If you desire separate lodgings, they may be found for you little cousin,” he offered, and Bilbo blinked back his confusion.

“Entirely unnecessary, although I thank you for the kind thought,” he said graciously, and Beorn rumbled something that could have been acknowledgement. There was a faint scent in the air as they passed each other, and Bilbo sniffed briefly - and then craned his head to stare at Beorn’s back in some surprise.

“Is he an-?” he hissed to Gandalf, whose shoulders shook slightly with repressed laughter.

“I would have thought you of all people would not judge on appearances, my dear boy,” he whispered back quite mischievously, and Bilbo shook his head. 

***

Beorn’s hospitality was generous; within the hall on low-set tables a number of grey-furred dogs were laying out food, walking on their hind-legs and bearing platters in paws that seemed oddly similar to hands. Despite the oddness of the servers, the food was good and it was not long before even Bombur was able to step away from the table, fully replete.

They collapsed down on straw-mattresses, sprawling out comfortably to talk with one another. Once again it seemed Bilbo was the most popular of conversation-companions - but this time, oddly, Thorin chose to join the group sitting around him, though he said little. Bilbo shifted a little uncomfortably, reminded of their conversation, but was reassured by Kili’s hovered presence.

“Will you tell us more of the Shire?” Ori asked, sprawled out on the floor with his notebook once more spread in front of him.

“You would like to know more of our omegas?” Bilbo asked dryly, but was quietened by Thorin raising his head to look intently at him.

“Tell us of your family,” he said, somehow managing to frame the order as a request.

Bilbo was uncertain, raising one shoulder in a shrug. “My... family?” he asked, smiling a little. “Why would you like to know about them?”

“You have said yourself we know so little of each other,” Thorin said, ignoring his nephews’ stares. “Should we not remedy this?”

“I-” Bilbo said, and then smiled. “Certainly.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Another Man's Treasure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/672994) by [Cloud_Nine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloud_Nine/pseuds/Cloud_Nine)




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